


Written in the Stars: Beauty and the Bassez

by zebraljb



Category: Beauty and the Beast (1991), NSYNC
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-04
Updated: 2012-05-25
Packaged: 2017-11-03 01:25:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 45,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/375524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zebraljb/pseuds/zebraljb
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Beauty and the Beast, boyband style.  Lance is the beauty, JC is the beast, and Justin is Gaston, swaggering around the countryside.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is rated "Mature" for discussion of sex, although there is no graphic sex in the story.

WRITTEN IN THE STARS  
BEAUTY AND THE BASSEZ  
One

 

Once upon a time there was a beautiful man named Joshua, though he went by the nickname of JC. He was tall and slender, with a muscular frame topped off by wavy dark hair and bright blue eyes. He had a beautiful smile enhanced by deep dimples, and a laugh that could be both deep and light. He was born into wealth and grew up surrounded by beautiful things, but was also enamored of the arts, and loved to sing. The gods had given him the voice of an angel, and incredible musical talent.

What they also gave him was the personality of a demon, and an ego the size of the large castle he lived in. He was curt and rude to his personal staff, and didn’t treat the servants and employees he met on his travels any better. If he felt someone was below his notice, it was how he treated them. Only the wealthiest, smartest, and most beautiful people of the world interested him. It was this callous nature, his indifference to the good in his common man, that led to his downfall.

 

JC was returning home from two weeks of travel when he passed a carriage at the side of the road. “Good sir!” The driver cried. “Thank God. Can you please help us?”

JC slowly moved the curtain to stare out of his own carriage. “I have not been home for a fortnight, and I’m tired. Someone else will pass along this road shortly, I’m sure.”

The driver frowned. “Can’t you spare one of your coachmen?”

“They’re obviously busy.” JC slapped the roof of the carriage, and the horses went on.

 

Later that evening, when he stopped at his favorite inn, JC found the innkeeper arguing with a young man with a dirty face and ragged clothes. “But I’ve been walking for days. Don’t you have anywhere I can stay? I have money…I’ll pay whatever you like.”

“I’m sorry, man, but we’re full,” the innkeeper said. His face burst into smiles when he saw JC. “Mr. Chasez! How wonderful to see you! Everything is ready for you. We’re so glad to have you back again.”

“Hello,” JC said, pulling off his gloves. He looked down his nose at the other man. 

“Perhaps this man can help me.” The young man’s dark eyes begged as he looked at JC. “I’m trying to get home for my grandmother’s funeral. I’ve been walking for days, and I can barely feel my feet. Would I be able to sleep on the floor of your room, perhaps?”

JC stared at him. “Indeed NOT! Isn’t there room in the stable, or something?” He brushed past the young man and bellowed for his dinner.

 

The next morning, when he was but five miles from his home, the carriage slowed. “What’s going on?” JC shouted, smacking at the roof.

“Nothing, sir,” the driver called back. 

JC pushed the curtain aside and saw a tall man standing by his horse. “Threw a shoe,” the man said with a sigh, tipping his hat at JC. “I don’t suppose…”

“Drive ON,” JC insisted. “We’re almost home and I’m tired.”

 

“Sir! So good to see you!” A burly man hurried out to greet JC as soon as he entered the drive. “How was your trip?”

“Joseph, I’m exhausted. Traveling takes everything out of me,” JC said with a sigh. He handed Joseph his hat, coat and gloves as he entered the castle. “Is dinner ready?”

“Well, we weren’t sure when you’d return, but it will be ready shortly,” Joseph promised. JC rolled his eyes. 

“Where’s Christopher?”

“Preparing a bath, for you, sir. We figured you might…”

“What you figure is not a concern of mine,” JC told him. “But a hot bath sounds heavenly. I will bathe, and then eat in the library.”

“Yes, sir.” Joseph bowed, then made an obscene hand gesture behind JC’s back as he headed towards his rooms.

 

JC was finishing his meal in front of the fire when Joseph reappeared. “Sir, there is someone at the door.”

“You didn’t let them IN, did you?” JC asked. Joseph’s shy grin made him sigh. “I suppose you DID. Well, you can take them to the kitchen, give them something to eat, and send them on their way. Make sure they know who their generous benefactor is.”

“It’s not a beggar, sir. I think you’ll want to see him.”

“REALLY?” JC sat up a bit. “Send him in, then.”

Joseph bowed and left the room. He returned with a cloaked man. “Mr. McLean, sir.”

“Mr. McLean.” JC stood and held out his hand. “Such a pleasure to have you in my home. I’m…”

“I know who you are.” The man removed the cloak and lay it over a chair. He was a few inches shorter than JC, thin, with dark hair and darker eyes. He had a dark goatee and a sly grin. He was dressed in black velvet from head to toe, his white shirt a ruffle of light against all the dark. “JC Chasez.”

“Yes,” JC said, smiling at him. He looked the man over and obviously liked what he saw. “May I offer you a drink, Mr. McLean?”

“You’re being hospitable. How charming. No, thank you, I must decline. I know you will next offer me a seat, and I will decline that as well.” Mr. McLean leaned against a bookcase. “Do I look familiar to you, Mr. Chasez?”

“No.” JC studied him carefully. “I think I’d remember someone like you.”

“You’d think that, wouldn’t you?” Mr. McLean smiled politely. “In fact, Mr. Chasez, we’ve met on more than one occasion.”

JC looked thunderstruck. “My apologies. I’m sure…”

“You definitely do need to apologize, Mr. Chasez, but not for the reasons you think. In the past few days, as you’ve traveled home…a carriage, all but overturned. An exhausted man, grieving his grandmother, looking for a place to lay his weary head. A man whose horse threw a shoe. Sound familiar?”

JC gulped and stared at the stranger. “Well…yes. But how…”

Mr. McLean’s smile grew dark. “Don’t try to understand how I know, Mr. Chasez. Your sad little mind wouldn’t be able to wrap around it. Let’s just say you were being tested…and you failed.”

“Who ARE you?”

“Your worst nightmare, Mr. Chasez. How many people work for you here in this castle?”

“A hundred, more or less,” JC stammered, startled at the sudden change in subject.

“How many of them do you know by name?”

“It’s a hundred people! I can’t…”

“How many?”

“Well, there is Joseph…and, well, Christopher…and…”

“Don’t hurt yourself,” Mr. McLean said, amused. “You know nothing of the people who work for you, and most of their families have worked in this castle for generations. You care about nothing except yourself, and how other things directly affect you. You’re callous, cruel, selfish and ignorant.”

“I’m going to ask you to leave, sir.” JC pointed towards the door, glaring at the other man.

Mr. McLean laughed. “You do that. But it won’t change a thing. Tomorrow, when you waken, everything will change. Your true self will show on the outside. Gone will be the breathtakingly beautiful man with the voice of a songbird. In his place will be a beast…the true reflection of your soul. And until you find someone that can love you for your inside and not your face, you will remain that way.” Mr. McLean started for the doorway, then turned back around. “And you will get to know your staff better than you ever thought possible, because as of tomorrow morning, any member of your staff sleeping in the castle tonight will be forbidden to go any further than two yards from this castle. They’ll be stuck with you. Good evening, Mr. Chasez.” The man tipped his hat to JC, and was gone.

“That was the strangest thing I’ve ever heard,” JC said, shaking his head. He yawned and stretched, walking towards the foyer. “CHRISTOPHER!” He shouted. “I’m ready for bed now. Attend me!”

 

“And don’t you look beautiful this morning?” Joseph said to the maid, chucking her under the chin. “They didn’t grow them this pretty where I’m from.”

“Joseph, don’t you have a wife and baby at home?” Christopher growled at him.

The maid giggled. “I don’t care, Mr. Christopher. I know what a monster Mr. Joseph is. I wouldn’t give him the time of day.”

“It would be the time of your life,” Joseph promised her, and she giggled again.

“I think that…” Christopher began, but was interrupted by a roar like nothing they’d ever heard. “What was that?”

“I’m not sure.” Joseph hurried out of the kitchen and ran up the large staircase, taking the steps two at a time. He hurried to his master’s chambers, knocking on the door. “Mr. Chasez, sir? Are you all right?”

“GO AWAY!” The rough voice growled. “Do NOT open that door, Joseph.”

“Do you need a doctor?”

“Go…away!”

“Yes, sir…” Joseph turned and looked at Christopher, who was right on his heels. “Guess he’s not ready for breakfast, then,” he said with a shrug.


	2. Chapter 2

WRITTEN IN THE STARS  
Two

“James Lance, are you up?”

“Yes, Mother.” 

James Lance Bass, or Lance, as he preferred to be called, yawned and stretched and pulled himself out of bed. He’d been up late the night before, studying the stars and taking notes, and the sun was not a welcome sight.

“Your father needs you in the shop immediately.”

“Mother, I’m UP,” Lance said in annoyance. He got dressed, washed his face, and hurried to the kitchen. He kissed his mother on the cheek as he went by.

“No time for that,” she muttered, but he caught her small smile. “Sit down. Eat quick. You know the hunters will be trickling in for supplies.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said with a sigh. He sat down and dug into his oatmeal, sprinkling an ample amount of sugar on it and slurping at his tea.

“Do you need to eat with so much noise?”

“Do you want me to hurry or do you want me to be quiet?” Lance teased.

His mother sighed and turned back to the stove. “I’m fairly certain that Timberlake boy will be showing up today.”

“That’s nice,” Lance said faintly, not really wanting to encourage his mother but replying to be polite.

“Such a good looking boy. Tall and strong. And those curls.” Diane Bass shook her head. “He’s got every young thing in the village running after him, you know.”

“And some of them catch him,” Lance muttered, thinking of Nickolas Carter, one of the town beauties. Lance knew that Nickolas Carter was also one of the lewdest, easiest creatures in town.

“You should catch him!” Diane whirled around, brandishing a wooden spoon. “Justin Timberlake is well off, charming and attractive. What makes you too good for him?”

“I never said I was too good for him,” Lance said in astonishment. “I’m not too good for anyone.”

“And don’t you forget it,” Diane said with a glare.

Lance pushed his bowl away. “I’m not hungry anymore. I know Father is waiting for me.” He stood up and brought his dishes to the small counter. “Have a nice day, Mother.” He dutifully kissed her cheek again, though his heart wasn’t in it.

“You be nice to that boy!” Diane called after him.

 

Lance kicked at a few stones as he walked the short distance to their family’s store. He knew he was far from being his mother’s pride and joy, but comments like that still hurt. He knew he was pretty much the town laughingstock. While he knew he wasn’t unattractive – he’d heard compliments on the pale sheen of his skin and the interesting color of his eyes – the village valued social skills and popularity much more than a keen mind. Lance had a keen mind. He did not have social skills and popularity. The people in the village couldn’t quite figure him out. They saw him as aloof, when he was really shy. They saw him as eccentric, when he was just scholarly. 

“Here I am, Father,” he announced as he entered their large store. His father ran the only dry goods store in their village, and also carried a large supply of ammunition and hunting supplies. 

“Hello.” His father smiled at him, and Lance sighed. At least one person in his family seemed to like him. “If you don’t mind, I’d like you up front, Lance. I have a lot of inventory to go through, and we’re going to be busy.”

“Hunting season,” Lance agreed.

“I don’t suppose you’ll be going out there?” Mr. Bass asked hopefully. While he tried his best to understand his quiet, bookish son, he still hoped that someday he’d be out with the other young men, drinking and bringing back wild boar and deer for the table.

“What would you do without me here, Father?” Lance gently reminded him, trying to smile.

“True…I do need you here,” Mr. Bass admitted. “There’s a thermos of coffee by the counter if you want some.”

“Thank you, Father, but I had tea already,” Lance told him. He put an apron around his waist and took his place behind the counter. He pulled his glasses from his shirt pocket and slid them on his nose. 

Mr. Bass sighed as he studied his only son. He was well built, with a ceramic complexion and mysterious yellow-green eyes. His smile was crooked and warm, and his hands moved quickly over the buttons of the cash register. He was quiet and shy, and his father knew he was often unhappy. He didn’t know how to fix things for his son, and it often made him sad. He sighed again and went back to the stockroom.

 

Lance was very busy once the store opened, with hunters practically breaking the door down as they demanded ammunition, food and camp supplies. Lance kept a smile on his face, quickly helping the customers get things off the shelves, then running behind the register to total their purchases. Though many of the men in the village didn’t understand why this boy preferred to keep his nose in a book instead of out in the woods, they appreciated the fact that he seemed to know what they needed even before they did.

The store finally emptied by around ten, and Lance sighed with relief. His mother had dropped by with a basket of snacks, but he’d been too busy to even notice. He munched on some cookies and drank water as he looked at the mess the hunters had left behind. 

“Hello, Lance.” 

The familiar voice made him choke on some cookie crumbs. He brushed himself off, took a long drink of water, and turned back around, a smile on his face. “Good morning, Mr. Timberlake. How are you?”

The long arm leaned on the counter as the blue eyes twinkled at Lance. Justin Timberlake’s smile was wide and arrogant. He was tall and slender and beautiful, and he knew it. “Now, Lance, how long have we known each other? Since we were five or six? You don’t need to call me…”

“You’re a paying customer, Mr. Timberlake. I need to treat you with respect.”

Justin leaned on both arms now, his face close to Lance’s. “You know the best way you could respect me? If you would just…”

“Hello, Justin!” A happy voice cried from the door. Justin and Lance rolled their eyes as one.

“Mr. Carter,” Lance said politely.

“Oh. Hello, Lance.” Nickolas Carter, blond haired, blue eyed and gorgeous, gave Lance the once over. “God. Don’t you EVER get outside? You’re pale as paper.” Nickolas looked at his own tan arms proudly. “Justin, I thought you were going to wait for me!”

“I said I MIGHT,” Justin growled. “Nickolas, wait outside, please.”

“But Justin…”

Justin pulled himself to his full height and glared at him. “Go outside.”

“Okay.” Nickolas gave Justin a simpering smirk, glared at Lance, and flounced out the door.

“I will never understand how that boy has enough brain cells to stay vertical,” Lance mumbled, wiping the counter.

“I don’t care much about what he does when he’s vertical. It’s when he’s horizontal that I pay the most attention to him,” Justin said with a cocky grin. Lance blushed and didn’t reply. “C’mon, Lance…why won’t you let me buy you dinner, or take you to the pub for a drink?”

“I’m flattered that you want to take me out, Justin, but…I’m so busy.”

“The store closes at dinner.”

“Well, you’re out hunting and…”

“I’d make time for you.” Justin’s blue eyes were dark and serious. “Do you know what it could do for your reputation if you went out with me?”

 _I know you’d give me a reputation_ , Lance thought. He said, “You’re too kind.”

“I know your mother likes me,” Justin said. He smiled, and Lance thought that it was one of the best things about him. Justin’s smile was bright and flashed out often. “Do you know there are three of my trophies hanging at the pub? THREE! That’s more than anyone else.”

“I know you’re very talented at hunting,” Lance said, wishing Justin would just LEAVE.

“I’m talented at a lot of things, pretty Lance.” Justin leaned in and kissed Lance’s cheek before Lance could protest. “I’m going to wear you down, Lance Bass. I’m the best thing that could happen to you. Have a good day.” Justin left the store and Nickolas immediately pounced, following at Justin’s heels like one of his hunting dogs.

Lance groaned, lightly banging his head on the countertop.

 

“I don’t understand what you see in him, Justin,” Nickolas said, pouting as he followed Justin along the road. “He’s so odd.”

“True.” Justin went to his wagon and checked his supplies. 

“I mean, he never does anything outside. He has those strange eyes. And all he does is read and look at the stars, look at the stars and read.” Nickolas leaned against the wagon, crossing his arms over his chest. “And he’s short!”

“God may not have given him height, that’s for sure,” Justin said. He tightened some ropes and looked at Nickolas. “And I’ll admit that I don’t quite understand what goes on in that brain of his. But he’s so damn pretty. And unreachable. And that ass…” Justin shook his head.

“Aren’t I pretty? I thought you liked my ass.” Nickolas pouted again, which made Justin chuckle.

“Yes, you are very pretty. And your ass is delicious.” Justin patted Nickolas’ cheek. “But Lance is something different. Like nothing I’ve ever seen. And usually what’s different and unique is what’s the best…and don’t I deserve the best, Nickolas?”

“Definitely,” Nickolas said, nodding. “I may not be the best, but I know what you like.” Nickolas pressed his long frame against Justin, who gave him a brutal kiss.

“Later. I’m off to hunt. I’ll find you.”

“Good luck,” Nickolas said, sighing wistfully as he watched Justin climb up behind his horses and cluck them into motion.

 

When Lance went home for lunch, he was grateful to see his mother hard at work out in the yard, doing laundry. He went into the kitchen, made himself a sandwich, and ate it quickly. He read as he ate, a book on astronomy propped up against his mug of milk. When he finished eating, he cleaned his dishes and snuck back out of the house, hoping to avoid his mother. He succeeded.

He wasn’t due back to the store for another fifteen minutes, so he hurried through town with his book under his arm. No one called out to him or offered a warm greeting, but he didn’t mind. He knew what the town thought of him, and usually it didn’t bother him.

“Young Lance!” Kevin Richardson beamed a smile at him as he entered the tiny bookstore. This was one of the few people in town that Lance could consider a friend. “How nice to see you? Done with it already?”

“No, but I promised you I’d have it back today.” Lance sighed as he handed over the large book. “I was busier than I thought at the store, and didn’t have time to finish it.”

“I don’t get many people interested in borrowing something like that,” Kevin said with a chuckle. “Borrow it as long as you like.”

“Are you sure?” Lance hugged the book with delight. “Thank you! I’m hoping to get out one night this week, and it would really be helpful to have this along.”

“Of course I’m sure. I know my books are in good hands with you, of all people.” Kevin Richardson ran an establishment that was part lending library, part bookstore, and Lance was his best customer for both. 

“Have you gotten anything new?” Lance wandered through the stacks of books.

“Since yesterday? No,” Kevin said, laughing. “Unless you’re interested in the new romance novel.”

Lance made a face. “No, thank you. Those are ridiculous. Boy meets girl, they don’t get along, suddenly they do, the end.”

“Well, I’m glad I haven’t hired you to do any promotions for the store…no one would be interested,” Kevin said.

Lance smiled. “I should get back to the store, Mr. Richardson. Thank you so much.”

“Have a good day, Lance.” Kevin smiled and put a hand on Lance’s shoulder. “And keep your chin up.”

 

It was difficult to take Kevin’s advice that evening as Lance sat at dinner with his parents, listening to his mother go on and on about how well the young men of the town had done at their hunt. “I saw Justin Timberlake bring back two stags!”

“I’m glad we could sell him good supplies,” was all her husband said as he ate. 

“Oh, he came into the store? Were you nice to him?” Diane demanded of Lance.

“Lance is nice to every customer,” Jim said quickly, and Lance smiled at him.

“He asked me to the pub one night,” Lance murmured, and Diane beamed at him.

“PLEASE tell me you said yes, James.”

“I didn’t exactly say NO,” Lance said truthfully.

Diane sighed, putting down her fork. “James Lance Bass, the way you act, you’re lucky that ANYONE in this town gives you the time of day. He’s just the sort of boy that could help you.”

“Mother, he’s not interested in “helping” me, unless he’s helping me lay down on my back,” Lance snapped.

“James!”

“It’s true, Mother. Justin Timberlake is all bright smile and charm, but there’s really only one thing he wants from me. He sees me as a conquest, and no matter WHAT you think, I’m better than that.” Lance tossed down his napkin. “I’m not hungry.” He looked at Jim. “Father, if you don’t need me, I’m going for a walk.”

“That’s fine, Son,” Jim said, sighing as he watched his son’s shoulders droop as he walked away.


	3. Chapter 3

WRITTEN IN THE STARS  
Three

 

“Morning, Joe,” Christopher said, yawning and rubbing at his eyes. “Morning, Brian.”

“Good morning, Christopher.” Brian smiled as he lined up the bowl and mug on the tray. 

“Fuck good morning,” Joseph snapped. “Up all fucking night with that growling and yelling.”

Christopher sighed. It had been three years since the nightmare started in the castle, and Joseph wasn’t dealing with it any better. Everything the strange man had said came true…their master turned into a horrible monster on the outside as well as the inside, and no one was allowed outside the perimeter set by the magician. Joseph’s wife and daughter could come see him, but he could not leave the castle grounds. Brian’s wife and son came to see him as well, but it wasn’t the same. 

“I’ll take the tray up,” Christopher offered. “It’s not like I have much else to do.”

“Fine,” Joseph snapped, leaving the kitchen.

Brian looked at him and shrugged. “It’s his daughter’s birthday.”

“Ah,” Christopher said, nodding. “How are you doing, Brian?”

“Good.” Brian shrugged again and went to the stove. “You’d better hurry up if you want to be back down here for breakfast.”

“Save me something. I’m not all that hungry,” Christopher said. He took a deep breath and picked up the tray.

If anything, in his opinion, their master had gotten easier to deal with instead of harder. He hated for anyone to see him, so he mostly kept to the east wing of the castle. He prowled the building at night, and when he was especially depressed, he let out a series of growls and whines. That had happened the night before, and no one had slept particularly well.

Christopher rapped on the bedroom door. “Sir? It’s Christopher. I have your breakfast.”

Christopher heard a snort and a growl, then a sharp, “Enter.”

He entered the room, putting the tray on a small table. “Hello, sir.” Christopher had learned early on never to use the phrase “Good morning” if he wanted to keep his head on straight. His master saw no day as good if he woke up as anything but human. “It’s a sunny day out…would you mind if I opened the drapes?”

“Why?” Came the growl from the bed.

“Now, Mr. Chasez, I know you love pretty things,” Christopher said cajolingly, moving to the window and slowly sliding the heavy drapes open. “You always had an eye for what’s beautiful…and the trees are looking particularly gorgeous today. I saw a few songbirds as well.”

“Music,” JC snapped as he sat up. “Not what I need.”

“Then we’ll keep the window closed,” Christopher suggested. He carefully averted his eyes from his master as he brought the tray. He had also learned early on that JC saw horror and fear in anyone that looked at him, whether it was true or not. “Oatmeal today. Not very exciting, I’m afraid, though I did see Brian put some brown sugar on it. I know you like things sweet.”

“Mmm,” JC said. “What I wouldn’t give for pancakes or bacon.”

“I believe we have a delivery of meat coming today,” Christopher said. Most of their food needed to be delivered, since no employee of the castle could go any further than the chicken coop out back and the barn at the side. “I’ll ask about the bacon. And pancakes…”

“I cannot use a knife and fork, you idiot!” JC snapped.

“Right,” Christopher said softly. Their master’s meals were now limited to things he could grasp with his large hairy paws, or things he could drink out of. “Well…I don’t know what the big deal is about utensils, anyway. I think it’s MUCH quicker to just eat from the dish…you get the good stuff right away. Formality was never my thing.”

JC snorted and watched his servant as he bustled about the room, tidying things up. One thing he liked about Christopher was that he never gave up. He’d tried being sympathetic, which JC hated. Now he’d moved to comedy and light teasing, which, although JC would never admit it, made things a lot easier. When he caught Christopher looking at him, it was not with pity or fear. It was sadness, and not for his own lot in life. “I can imagine you wouldn’t enjoy a social dinner, then.”

“Nope. Not at all interested. Give me a pretty girl on my knee and a tankard at my side, with a good song played by talented people.” Christopher got out a pair of simple blue pants and a grey tunic shirt. JC was no longer slender and well-built. His clothes were now made by one of the servant girls, Jessica, who had a way with a needle. He had to wear shirts the size of circus tents and pants cut for a buffalo.

“Music,” JC said again, drinking the rest of his oatmeal and tossing the bowl to the floor. It smashed, and Christopher sighed as he cleaned it up. “Must you constantly…”

“I was thinking, sir,” Christopher said as he knelt to the floor. “I know you are sad that you can no longer play the piano.” JC growled menacingly, and Christopher smiled at the floor. “But I know you wish for a creative outlet…have you thought about painting?”

“Painting?” JC stared at his servant’s back. “But…”

“Even those large hands of yours can hold a thick paintbrush, sir,” Christopher said, refusing to call them paws. “They make different sizes. You could play around a bit, see what you can do. As I said, you’ve always had an eye for what’s pretty.”

“Painting,” JC mused. He stood and began to dress himself. He allowed no one to touch him. “If you wish to bring something, I will take a look at it,” he said in an offhanded tone.

Christopher swallowed a smile. “I will ask the delivery boy when he comes today. If you’re not needing anything else, sir…” Christopher piled the shards of bowl on the tray and bowed. 

“No.” JC waved his hand and Christopher left the room.

JC sighed and went to the window, peeking out at the sunny morning. Christopher was right; the grounds and trees were breathtaking. JC frowned, leaning his head against the glass. How he missed the simple things…walking through the woods…playing the piano…laughing with friends. JC scowled as he thought of his so-called friends. Once the rumors started that the once high and mighty JC Chasez had morphed into a freak, he had no visitors. Of course, anyone who HAD come to gawk and see for themselves had been turned away. No one saw him except his staff, and even that was on very infrequent occasions. He trusted no one, except perhaps Christopher. 

Deep down, he knew he’d brought this upon himself, though he hadn’t thought he behaved all THAT badly. In his mind, he behaved like everyone else of his station. No one else seemed to think that way, though.

 

“Good afternoon, Lance.” Justin Timberlake flopped onto the ground next to Lance, tilting his face towards the sun. “Isn’t it a beautiful day?”

“It is,” Lance agreed, putting his bookmark into his book and closing it. “How are you?” He asked politely.

“Good…good…” Justin gave him that sunny grin. “What are you doing?”

“Taking a break from the shop…reading…” Lance held up the book, inwardly sighing. He had found a spot at the edge of town, leaning up against a tree to read for a few hours. He had hoped no one would notice him there. Apparently he was wrong.

“What’s that?” Justin picked up the book, flipped through it, and wrinkled his nose. “Not a lot of pictures.”

Lance chuckled, but not unkindly. “Well, it’s about the night sky, Justin, so pictures really wouldn’t be much help.”

“What’s the big deal? About the sky, I mean?”

Lance studied Justin to see if he was teasing him, but his blue eyes were serious. “Well…it’s just so vast. So mysterious and unexplored.”

“Kinda like you,” Justin murmured, running a finger along Lance’s smooth cheek. “Mysterious and unexplored.”

Lance blushed and ducked his head, sighing audibly this time. “Thank you, I think.”

“Lance…” Justin said. “Don’t you even want to just go out with me once? I think we’d be so good together.”

“Why? We have nothing in common, Justin.”

“I think we’d look good together, first of all. And I love the thought of you waiting for me at home, after I’ve been out hunting or working in the fields. You could greet me at the door, help me remove my boots…give me a foot massage…” Justin stared off dreamily.

“It sounds like you want a wife, Justin,” Lance said, shaking his head.

“Wife…boy…whatever.” Justin shrugged. “I just know I want someone pretty at home. You’re pretty, and you seem capable.”

“Capable, that’s me.” Lance finally smiled. “I appreciate what you’re saying, Justin, and I’m flattered that you’re interested. I’m just not sure I’d make you a good partner.”

“We could try.” Justin ran his hand up and down Lance’s arm. 

“Are you interested enough to stop seeing other people?” Lance asked. “Like Nickolas Carter?”

“Nickolas is a friend. Nothing serious.”

“He thinks you are,” Lance said.

“So you’re telling me you’d say yes if I gave up all the others?” Justin asked hopefully.

“No. I was just wondering.”

“Fine.” Justin got up and wiped the grass from his backside. “You’re going to regret this, Lance. I may be your once chance at happiness.”

“You may be,” Lance agreed. “But you and I aren’t made for each other, Justin. I don’t want to disrespect you that way.”

“Whatever,” Justin snapped, stomping away.

Lance watched him walk away, wondering how his life had gotten so odd.

 

When he sat down at the dinner at the dinner table that evening, his mother plunked down a platter of ham and plopped into her chair, glaring at him. 

“Looks delicious, dear,” Jim Bass said weakly, giving his son a sympathetic look.

Diane ignored him. “WHEN are you going to get a brain into that blond head of yours?” She snapped. “Justin Timberlake is one of the most eligible young men in this excuse for a town, if not THE most eligible. And he pays attention to YOU. Asks YOU to go for dinner. Asks YOU to spend time with him. Is it so much to ask that you give him the honor of your company?”

Lance blinked at the hatred in her voice. “Mother…”

“I know that in these parts, men liking men is accepted. I don’t like it. I think men belong with women. Look at how happy Stacey is.”

“Mama…” Lance whispered, using his childhood name for her.

“But I go along with it, because society says it’s acceptable. If I must put up with your liking MEN, for God’s sake, then I will. I put up with the fact that you’ll never give me grandchildren. That my only SON isn’t really a man.”

“Diane!” Jim gasped.

“So, can you imagine how proud I am that one of the finest, most popular, handsome boys in town is interested in my son? Finally, I can latch onto something that I can brag about…instead of listening to the sympathy from all my friends. They try to find something complimentary to say about you, Lance, but it’s hard for them. But none of THEM can say that Justin Timberlake is interested in THEIR sons.” Lance looked down at his plate, lower lip wobbling, eyes filling with tears. “And I’ve heard that not once, but TWICE, he has asked you to go out with him, and you’ve said no.” Diane slapped her palm on the table. “I’d like to know what makes you so special, James Lance Bass. What makes you too damn good for him?”

“Diane, why don’t you…”

“No, Jim. I want to hear it from HIM.”

Lance slowly raised his head to look at her, tears spilling down his cheeks. “Because I have something called self-respect, Mama, even if you and the others don’t see it. You’re right. Justin Timberlake IS handsome. He’s charming and accomplished and popular and everyone loves him. But what you DON’T see is how he uses people. He has a few boys he strings along, like Nickolas Carter. They follow him around, whimpering with delight when he gives them the time of day. Excuse my language, Mama, but all he wants from them is a quick lay whenever the urge hits him.” His mother bit her lip. “And I don’t want to be that. I’m more than that. Justin Timberlake isn’t looking for forever, Mama. He’s looking for right now. The closest piece of ass. I may be shy. I may be clumsy and boring. I may have my head in the clouds most of the time. But I know that I’m too good to be someone’s piece of ass, Mama. And I always hoped you thought that way about me, too.” Lance threw down his napkin and stood. “I’m sorry that I’m such an embarrassment to you, Mother. You, too, Father, though you hide it much better. But I refuse to let Justin Timberlake wipe his feet on me.” Lance grabbed his book and his jacket. “I’m going to be out late tonight, studying the stars. Don’t worry, I’ll be in the woods, in the dark. No one will see me and pity you.” Lance flew out the door, slamming it behind him.


	4. Chapter 4

WRITTEN IN THE STARS  
Four

Lance ran as hard as he could out of the village and into the woods. He angrily shoved branches and bushes out of his face, not even paying attention as he ran. Finally, he burst through the trees into a clearing, flopping onto his back in the damp grass. 

Lance panted as he stared up at the darkening sky. He’d always known that he was an embarrassment to his mother, but to hear her actually say the words? That was more pain than he’d ever felt. He’d always known she hadn’t approved of the whole idea of men loving men. It was accepted in their society, but on a quiet level. If someone like Justin Timberlake could be out and proud about his love for other men, it obviously was accepted. His mother could overlook the fact that Lance loved a man, if the man was someone like Justin Timberlake.

But Lance didn’t WANT someone like Justin Timberlake. He didn’t want to be someone’s showpiece, the person that adorned someone’s arm. He wanted to be loved for himself, for what he was on the inside. He wanted to be loved for his mind, for his heart, for his soul. And Justin wouldn’t even notice Lance HAD a mind, or a heart, or a soul. 

Lance flipped open his book and tried to read as the sun went down. Hopefully a few pages about planets would calm him enough to go home and not want to stab his mother with a fork.

 

An hour later, Lance rubbed at his forehead, his eyes throbbing as they tried to read in the dim light. He looked up at the sky, blinking at the clouds that were starting to float in. He needed to head home, he realized, frowning as he realized it would probably start raining on him as he went back. Lance stood, looking around in confusion. He hadn’t been this far into the woods before, and he wasn’t really sure which direction he’d come from.

Lance put on his jacket, took a deep breath, and headed out in what he hoped was the right direction. As he plodded through the woods, the rain started, neatly dripping off the trees right into the collar of his jacket. He tripped and fell over a large root, hitting the ground hard. When he got up, his knee throbbed, and he limped as he kept going. It didn’t take long to realize that he was going the wrong way. Lance did a half-turn to the right and tried walking in that direction. The rain was harder now, and he tucked his book inside his jacket as he limped along. His hair was plastered to his head, water kept running in his eyes, and his knee hurt worse as he went along. Finally, just as he thought he saw some glimmering lights ahead, he heard a howl behind him. Lance tripped and fell, screaming in fright as he went down.

 

“Gonna be another bad one,” Brian sighed, looking out the windows of the servants’ parlor. “This is one time I’m glad I don’t have to walk home.”

“I’m sure if you…” Joseph stopped talking as they heard a set of howls. “Wolves,” he whispered, looking at Christopher.

“God, I hope he doesn’t hear that,” Christopher said with a sigh. Their master hated the sounds of wolves…it reminded him of what he’d become, and he hated that even more. “We’ll be up all night again.”

The sound of the wolves was followed by a scream that could only be human. The three men stared at each other, then went running up to the front door of the castle. Joseph threw the door open. The rain was a steady beat against the ground, and they could barely make out the edge of the woods where it met the castle property. “Look!” Joseph gasped, pointing at the edge of the woods. 

Someone was crawling across the ground as fast as they could. The man pulled himself to his feet, ran a few yards, then collapsed again. “Help me!” 

“Oh, God,” Brian whispered.

Christopher ran out into the rain, going as far as he could before hitting the two yard mark and bouncing back a bit. “Come on!” He yelled at the stranger. “Come on!”

“Help me!” The man pulled himself to his feet and limped along. “They’re…coming…”

“You’re safe now,” Christopher said. “I can’t come to you. You’ll have to come to me!”

 

Lance couldn’t believe his luck when he saw the castle rise up ahead of him. He couldn’t hear the wolves moving, but their mournful calls were enough to scare him to death. He stumbled and crawled towards the castle, shocked when the door opened. He was even more shocked when someone ran out to help him, but stopped and called for him to come in. Why didn’t they come to his aid?

“You’ll have to come to me!” The man yelled. 

Lance gathered every ounce of strength and forced himself to walk to the man. He collapsed into the man’s arms. “Thank God,” Lance moaned.

“Let’s get you inside,” the man said, helping Lance limp to the door. Another man with a dark beard shut the door and bolted it. “Joseph, get some blankets and towels. Brian, I’m taking him to the kitchen. It’s warmest there.”

“We shouldn’t do this, Christopher,” the man named Brian said.

The man holding Lance up actually stopped walking. “WE’RE not the monsters here, remember, Brian? I’ll not let this young man be torn apart by wolves, or die from pneumonia sitting out in that rain.” He helped Lance down a few steps to the kitchen. “Here, young sir. Sit by the fire. We’ll get you some warm clothes and blankets.” Christopher pushed Lance into a chair and started heating water over the fire. “We’ll get something hot into you as well.”

Lance’s teeth chattered as he sat in the chair, waiting for the heat of the fire to reach him. He felt as if he’d never be warm again. He tried to undress, but his shaking fingers couldn’t work the buttons of his jacket. “Here,” a voice said. Lance looked up at the man named Joseph. “Let me.” Joseph quickly removed Lance’s jacket and shirt, wrapping a blanket around him. He bent down and removed Lance’s shoes and socks, then said, “Stand up, sir.” He got Lance out of his wet pants and into another blanket before Lance knew what was happening.

“Not…s-sir…” Lance stammered. “My name is Lance. Lance Bass.”

“You’re a guest here, Mr. Bass, so you’re a sir,” Christopher said, smiling at him.

“Bass…your father has a shop, doesn’t he?” Brian asked. Lance nodded as Joseph toweled his head dry. “I thought so. We all lived in another village, in the opposite direction, but I’ve been to your town once or twice.”

“Lived?” Lance said, but the others ignored him. 

“Do you think you can hold this tea?” Christopher handed him a mug, and Lance gratefully wrapped his cold hands around it.

“I’m going to have to wash this out and wrap it,” Brian said, investigating the large gash on Lance’s knee. “It will hurt.”

“Al-already h-h-hurts,” Lance stammered with a small smile. “Go ahead.”

Lance sipped at the tea as Brian worked on his knee, hissing as Brian wiped away the dirt and mud. “Th-thank you. Thank you all s-s-so much.”

“What were you doing out here in the woods at night?” Joseph asked. “If you’re not from around here…”

“Let’s get the boy to bed, and then we’ll worry about his life story,” Christopher ordered.

“Christopher, we can’t…” Brian began.

Christopher grabbed Joseph by the arm and glared at Brian. “Excuse us, Mr. Bass.” He dragged Joseph away to a far corner of the kitchen.

“You know we can’t do this!” Brian whispered furiously. “Mr. Chasez will kill us. He’d already be angry if he knew…”

“He doesn’t NEED to know,” Christopher interrupted. “We’ll put him downstairs until he’s well enough to go back home. We can’t just send him back out there!”

“Christopher, you know that this is a horrible idea,” Joseph said. “If the master finds out…”

“He…won’t…find…out…” Christopher snapped. “I’m pulling rank here.”

“I’ve worked here six months longer than you,” Joseph reminded him.

“But I’m older and wiser than both of you,” Christopher said. Brian and Joseph snorted as one. “Assholes.” Christopher returned to Lance, who was nodding off in the chair. “Mr. Bass, unfortunately I will not be able to put you in one of our nicer chambers. They’re…uh…being redecorated. The room I can give you will at least be dry, with a soft bed.”

“Whatever,” Lance said weakly.

“See? We can’t send him away,” Christopher hissed at the others. “Brian, can you bring him something to wear? You’re of a size.”

“Fine,” Brian snapped. “ But if I’m ever asked, I will be quick to point out this was YOUR idea.”

“I’ve got you,” Joseph said, easily swinging Lance up into his arms.

“Okay…” Lance murmured.

He vaguely remembered being dressed and tucked into a small bed in a small dark room with no fireplace. But Christopher piled four blankets on him, and his shivering subsided as he fell asleep.

 

Over the next week, Lance came in and out of consciousness. He recognized Christopher’s face, or Joseph’s, as they tried to feed him broth, but he could barely swallow the hot liquid before spasms of coughing would send it flying back up again. He remembered hearing Christopher curse about scalding liquid on his clothes, but otherwise, Lance’s world was a haze of nightmares and foggy moments of wakefulness.

 

Christopher frowned as he came up from the cellar where their guest was fitfully sleeping. He’d tried for the third time that day to get the patient to drink some broth, and he thought maybe this time he’d succeeded. The young man was starting to really worry him. What he needed was a warm room with a fire, but they dared not bring him upstairs without the fear that their master might notice. The same master that met Christopher at the top of the steps.

“Christopher.”

“Sir.” Christopher bowed low.

“What is that?”

“Uh, what?” Christopher looked at the bowl in his hand and hid it behind his back, wincing at the stupidity of it all.

“The bowl in your hand.”

“It’s a bowl?” Christopher offered, holding it out.

“Do you normally carry a bowl around with you?” Their master’s blue eyes stared out from the furry mane of hair surrounding his beastly face. 

“Um…I was feeling nauseous and thought perhaps I should bring something…” Christopher trailed off as his master growled at him.

“Christopher Kirkpatrick, if you wish to keep your limbs, you will answer me truthfully!”

No one truly believed their master would ever seriously injure them, but the possibility was always there. “I…”

“You’ve been acting odd all week. So has Joseph Fatone. When I meet with Brian Littrell, he is practically shaking in his shoes.”

“Sir…Master…I…” Christopher took a deep breath. “We have a guest.”

“A GUEST?” JC roared. Christopher winced and took a few steps back.

“Yes, sir, a guest. The night of the bad storm…we caught sight of him crawling through the woods, sir…he was injured, and there were wolves in the trees. We heard them. He needed help.”

“So you helped him.”

“Yes, sir, of course. I had to,” Christopher protested. 

“Knowing full well that I would not wish you to do any such thing?”

“Well, yes, sir,” Christopher admitted. “Although Brian and Joseph were quick to remind me of it as well.” JC snorted. He knew that Brian Littrell, while a wonderful cook, was a terrible coward. “We took care of his wounds and warmed him up, but he was in that rain…he got sick, sir. We couldn’t turn him out. Brian recognized him as someone that lives in the town to the east. We couldn’t send him into the rain. I thought…I hoped you’d…” Christopher cleared his throat. “I set him up downstairs. We’ve been nursing him.”

“He’s still here?” JC gasped.

“Yes, but…”

“Take me to him.”

“Sir…”

“Christopher,” JC growled. Christopher sighed and led the way downstairs. 

“He was sleeping when I left him,” Christopher said softly.

JC followed his servant down the stone steps to the bottom floor. He immediately felt the cold, damp air of the cellar. No wonder this man wasn’t improving. Christopher motioned to the room at the end of the corridor, and stepped out of the way. JC walked to the door and carefully opened it. A candelabra sat on the small table, giving the room a bit of weak light. JC grasped the candelabra in his large hand and moved closer to the bed. The bed was covered with blankets, and only a blond head peeked out on the pillow. The stranger wasn’t more than a boy, hardly a man. The boy’s lips were almost purple, and his cheeks were pale. JC cleared his throat as something uncomfortable and foreign swept through his chest. The boy turned his head and moaned, eyes fluttering open. JC gasped at the beautiful spring green eyes that stared at him in confusion. The boy muttered something nonsensical, then rolled back over.

JC stared at the boy for a moment. “Christopher…”

“Sir, I’m sorry, but…”

“Get the far suite in the west wing cleaned and aired as soon as possible. This boy needs someplace warm to recover if he’s ever going to be well enough to leave.”

Christopher gaped at him. “Sir?”

“You send him away now, he’ll die on the grounds. Someone finds him, they investigate…I don’t want any part of that. Move him.” Christopher stared at him. “Did I stutter, Christopher?”

“Yes, sir! I mean, no, Mr. Chasez, you…yes, sir!” Christopher sprang into action. 

JC stood for a long moment, staring wistfully at the youth on the bed. He was exactly the kind of boy he would have gone after when he was…normal. Which made him hate the stranger all the more.


	5. Chapter 5

WRITTEN IN THE STARS  
Five

When Lance won the battle to open his eyes, the first thing he noticed was that he was deliciously warm. The bed was soft, the covers were thick, and a fire crackled merrily in the fireplace across the room. “What…” 

“Hello, there.” Blue eyes twinkled at him. “I’m glad to see you’re finally awake. We were getting concerned. I’m Brian. I’m the cook here.”

“Hello.” Lance’s voice was raspy, which surprised him. Brian quickly brought him a small cup of water. Lance sipped at it. “Thank you. How long have I been here?”

“Almost ten days. We were going to try and find a way to send a messenger to your family if you weren’t improved by the end of the week.”

“Send a messenger?” Lance asked.

Brian frowned. “Never mind. I know Christopher will be glad to see you’re awake and talking.”

“What happened? I remember the woods…”

“Well, you hurt your knee pretty bad, and infection set in. Plus the fact that you were wandering around in the rain…”

“Oh. Thank you for taking me in.”

“Don’t thank ME. No offense meant, Mr. Bass, but it was all Christopher’s doing.” 

As if he’d hear his name, a dark head poked in the door. “You’re awake!” The short man with the dark hair bounced into the room. “Glad to see it! I’m Christopher Kirkpatrick, the master’s valet.” He looked at Brian. “You can go rest, Brian. I’ll take over from here.” Christopher smiled at Lance. “I’m sure Mr. Bass won’t be any trouble.”

“Please, all of you…call me Lance. Mr. Bass is my father.” Lance winced as he sat up.

“Easy there,” Christopher said, hurrying to help him.

“I’ll go, then. Nice to see you feeling better, Lance,” Brian said. “I’ll make you something good and warm to eat, now that you’re up.” He smiled at Lance and left the room.

“I don’t remember this room,” Lance said, looking around the lavishly decorated chamber. “This isn’t where you put me before.”

“No.” Christopher’s brown eyes darkened for a moment. “Let me think how to put this…our master doesn’t like visitors, especially surprise visitors. We were a little concerned as to how he would react, but I knew we couldn’t send you away. So we…well…hid you, in the cellar. But he found out, as he always does, and asked that we bring you up here.”

“How kind of him,” Lance said, and Christopher sorted.

“Kind. Yes. Of course. So, now, here you are, getting better. Brian’s a very good cook, so he’ll have your energy back before you know it.”

“This place is beautiful,” Lance whispered. “I’ve never seen such grandeur.”

“Mr. Chasez likes grandeur, that’s for sure,” Christopher agreed. He looked at the lace and velvet curtains and wrinkled his nose. “Me…I think it’s a little much. I love beautiful things, don’t get me wrong…but all of this seems…almost too much.”

“Chasez?” Lance gasped. “I’ve heard of him. He’s a recluse. No one’s ever really seen him in years. He’s a young man, correct?”

“Younger than I, older than you,” Christopher said warily. He didn’t like the idea of gossiping about his master, but he was dying to know what stories were being told outside the castle.

“I hear he’s a beautiful, talented man,” Lance said dreamily. “I hear he is tall and fair, with curly soft hair and blue eyes. I also hear he can sing like an angel.” Lance looked at the fire. “But, from what I hear, he disappeared from society altogether.”

“I didn’t realize people talked about him so much,” Christopher said.

Lance shrugged shyly. “Not to me, but I listen a lot. My father runs a store, and old men like to stand around and gossip.”

“Mr. Chasez has been ill,” Christopher told him. “For his health, he’s become a bit of a recluse, like you said.”

“He’s not getting better?” Lance asked sympathetically.

“Some days I think he is,” Christopher said, thinking of how JC had looked at their sleeping guest and suggested the move to better quarters. “And other days…” Christopher shook his head.

“Thank you,” Lance said, reaching out and grabbing Christopher’s hand. “I don’t know what I would have done if you wouldn’t have taken me in.”

“Oh.” Christopher blushed. “I’m sure anyone would have…”

“No, they wouldn’t have,” Lance said, thinking of his mother. “I was lost, and hurt. I could have died.”

“No need to be so dramatic,” Christopher said, chuckling. “You should rest. Brian will be back soon with something to eat. You need to get your strength back.”

“Will I be meeting Mr. Chasez?” Lance asked, settling back on his pillow.

Christopher tried to keep his face normal. “You may catch him prowling around the castle.” He turned and poked at the fireplace, trying not to think about what would happen if Lance DID meet Mr. Chasez.

 

Over the next few days, Lance continued to improve. He went from sitting in bed to sitting in a chair to pacing around his chamber. Joseph and Christopher came to visit when their duties allowed it, but otherwise, he was mostly on his own. He reread his book on the night sky until he’d memorized it, and Christopher finally got smart and thought of the large, unused library on the first floor.

“I’ll bring you books,” Christopher told Lance. “Anything you want. Any special topic?”

“Couldn’t I just get my own?” Lance asked. “I could probably walk down there and…”

“Oh, no,” Christopher said quickly, giving Joseph a look. “You’re probably not that healthy yet. It’s a long staircase. I’d be happy to get them for you.”

Lance sighed and sat down on the bed. His chamber was beautiful and well-decorated, but it was also starting to feel like a prison cell. “Thank you.”

“I just realized something,” Joseph said softly. “You’ve never asked us to send a message to your family, letting them know you’re all right.”

“I don’t care what they know,” Lance said, frowning.

“Were you running away?” Christopher asked, sitting on one of the chairs. “When we found you?”

“Not exactly,” Lance said. He played with the bedspread. “I had an argument with my mother. She doesn’t like who I am, and I refuse to change to become what she wants. I ran out of the house to cool off…and then I got lost.”

“What does she want you to be?” Christopher asked.

“Christopher, stop being so nosy!” Joseph snapped.

Lance smiled. He loved the way the two of them constantly picked on each other. It was obvious, however, that they were closer than brothers. “Well, she wants someone to bring pride to the family. Someone who is popular and well-liked, who could make a good match.”

“And?” Christopher asked.

“And I’m none of those things,” Lance sighed. “I’m not popular. Everyone makes fun of me because I like books and star-gazing instead of hunting and trapping. I’m pretty shy, so I’m not doing very well in the matchmaking department.” A small smile crossed his face. “I HAVE attracted the attention of the most popular young man in town…but I know what he’s after, and I’m not looking to give it to him.”

“Good for you!” Christopher said in approval. 

“You’re fine just the way you are, Lance,” Joseph told him, and Lance blushed a little.

“CHRISTOPHER!”

All three men jumped at the loud roar that made it through the thick wooden door, which was closed. “What was that?” Lance whispered.

Joseph and Christopher both jumped to their feet. “Oh, just the master’s dog,” Christopher said. “He must be hungry.”

“But I heard your name!” Lance protested.

“I didn’t hear that. I just heard the dog bark and whine. Isn’t that what you heard, Joseph?” Christopher asked.

“That’s what I heard.” Joseph gave Lance a quick bow. “We’ll see to your dinner, and those books.”

“Good night, Lance.” Christopher darted out of the room with Joseph on his heels.

“He’s not stupid. He’s going to wonder what’s going on,” Joseph said as they hurried downstairs.

“Well, he can keep wondering, because I’m sure not telling him.” They scrambled to the first floor, where their master was pacing by the front door. He had ignored a shirt altogether, and his broad hairy chest made him look even more menacing. “You called, sir?” Christopher bowed low.

“I am out of paint.”

“Yes, sir, I realized that, and the messenger went…”

“How am I supposed to paint when I have no paint!” The voice rose to a growl.

“Sir…as soon as it comes, I will have it for you!” Christopher promised.

“Christopher, I…” JC paused and took a deep breath. “I’m sure you will,” he finished, and the two men stared at him. “I…I’m sorry I shouted at you.”

“Of course, sir. No need to apologize.” 

“Sir, where would you like to have dinner? Brian is almost ready, I believe,” Joseph said.

“I…” JC looked around the castle. He was so tired of taking his meal in his chambers. “In the dining room,” he said finally. “I’m sure it’s much easier for Mr. Littrell to serve in there, anyway.”

“Y-yes, sir.” Joseph and Christopher bowed once more, and hurried away.

JC went to the front door and opened it, inhaling the fresh night air. One of the things he hated the most was the fact that he could no longer come and go as he pleased. While he was not bound to the castle the way everyone else was, he had no interest in going anywhere beyond the lines of his property. There was no one he could see, no one that would talk to him. Some nights he wandered through the woods, simply to get away from the castle’s stone walls, walls that seemed to pull in tighter and tighter as the days passed.

JC knew that his imprisonment was completely of his own doing. He had apparently been too selfish, too unkind, too unthinking. In some ways, he could occasionally see that. He noticed the friendly way his servants interacted with one another, but when they approached him, it was with fear and trepidation. He knew that was NOT just because of his current monstrous appearance. They were afraid of him. And while it was his job to keep his servants in their place, it was NOT something he wished to do by making them afraid of him.

JC often thought back to what Mr. McLean, the wizard (because that’s definitely what he must have been), had said to him. He’d brought up various individuals JC had interacted with on his last trip, and pointed out that JC had mistreated them. JC had been raised with the proverbial silver spoon in his mouth. There was only a certain level of people he’d been trained to even notice. Of course, there was a difference between not noticing someone, and treating them like they weren’t WORTH noticing. JC couldn’t completely blame his late parents for his behavior, though the way he’d been raised hadn’t helped. Money, wealth, bloodlines…those things were important. Artistic talent, compassion, a kind heart…those things weren’t as important. And now JC was paying for how he’d interpreted what his parents had taught him.

He was trying harder to be civil and kind to his servants, though he felt like he was swinging a rusty gate. His words were halting and uncomfortable, and he knew the servants probably thought he was going mad. He probably was. But Mr. McLean had said that the only way to undo the curse was to find someone to love him for the beauty of his heart and soul, not his face. And if he was going to attract anyone, he needed to learn to treat those around him with decency and at least respect.

JC sighed, returning to the castle and shutting the door behind him. Decency and respect, he was learning, did not come with wealth and prosperity.


	6. Chapter 6

WRITTEN IN THE STARS  
Six

“Look. You can’t keep me a prisoner here,” Lance said, crossing his arms and glaring at Christopher. “I’m going crazy, pent up in this room. It’s gorgeous and comfortable, don’t get me wrong…but I need out.”

“Are you sure you’re well enough?” Christopher asked, fidgeting.

“I’ve been here for almost four weeks, Christopher, and I’ve never left this room.” Lance raised an eyebrow. “Right now, I’m probably strong enough to physically get you out of my way.”

Christopher snorted. He’d learned that their young guest was intelligent and witty, with a quiet sense of humor and a strong stubborn streak. “I doubt that.”

“What’s going on? Good afternoon, Lance.” Brian appeared behind Christopher.

“Our young friend here would like to walk around the castle,” Christopher said.

Brian gasped. “Do you really think it’s a good idea? I mean, you’re still…”

“If you say I’m still healing, I will beat you about the head with this tray,” Lance snapped, motioning to a beautiful silver dinner tray. “What are you trying to hide?”

“Nothing,” Christopher said. “Nothing. Put those slippers on, and I’d be happy to escort you downstairs.”

Lance stared at Christopher, wary of the sudden change of heart. “All right.” Lance slid his feet into the soft slippers and followed Christopher out of the room.

“Are you insane?” Brian hissed. Christopher gave him a glare and led Lance down the hallway.

“So, you’ve been staying in the west wing of the castle. It’s where the master always puts his guests,” Christopher said cheerfully.

“Doesn’t look like there’s been many guests lately,” Lance remarked. The doors were closed, and although everything was neat and clean, it was obvious that this area was not often used.

“Well, as I told you, the master hasn’t been well,” Christopher reminded him. He led Lance down the staircase. “Obviously, that’s the front door.” 

“Wait.” Lance went to the large doors, threw them open, and took a deep breath. “Wonderful,” he sighed. “Not quite the same as leaning out a window.”

“We have beautiful gardens,” Brian offered nervously. “I’m sure you could probably start walking in them. I’ve heard the flowers are…”

“You’ve heard?” Lance turned around. “You don’t go out and walk in them?”

“Allergies,” Christopher said quickly. “Brian has horrible allergies.”

“Mmm.” Lance waited for Christopher to continue their tour. 

“Down here is the staircase to the kitchen and servants’ quarters, nothing that you would like to see,” Christopher said. “This is the formal dining room, but, of course, we don’t often use it.” He opened the door and Lance peeked in. 

“Amazing.” The table was long and made of a dark wood. The walls were decorated with beautiful tapestries.

“Here is the parlor…sometimes the master sits by the fire here, but usually he prefers the fire in his chambers,” Christopher said, motioning to a door. He skipped a door and continued down the hall.

“What’s this?” Lance stopped in front of the skipped door.

“The music room,” Christopher said. 

“I love music,” Lance sighed. “Do you have a pianoforte, or a harp?”

“We can’t go in there,” Christopher quickly told him.

“Why?”

Christopher actually drew a blank. He raised his eyebrows as he looked at Brian. “Redecorating,” Brian offered. “Mr. Chasez is completely redecorating that room. It’s a shambles. We’d probably fall on our faces as soon as we opened the door.”

“That’s right. Redecorating,” Christopher said, smiling at Brian in relief. “This, Lance, is the room I think you’ll spend the most time in.” He opened the doors to the library.

“My God,” Lance whispered, looking at the rows and rows of books. “This must have cost a fortune.” He ran his hand over a fine set of Shakespeare. “Has Mr. Chasez read all of these?”

Christopher made a noise that suspiciously sounded like a laugh morphed into a cough. “I’m not sure that he has,” Brian said. “When he’s well, he’s often traveling. Some of these belonged to his parents, and some…”

“He collected because they’re the best,” Lance said absently. “To me, this room is worth more than the entire castle.”

“Feel free to read whatever you like,” Christopher said. He knew the master did not often visit this room, so Lance could come and go freely.

Lance took a few volumes and pulled them from the shelf. “I may go out later to the garden and read there.” He followed Christopher out of the library. “Where does that go?” He motioned to another large staircase.

“That goes to the east wing,” Brian said. “You cannot go up there.”

“Why?”

“Trust me, Lance. That’s where our master’s chambers are, and he doesn’t like visitors. He can be…a monster, at times,” Christopher said. “Would you like to take your lunch out in the garden, then?”

 

A few days later, around midnight, Lance was lying in bed, wide awake. He was trying to wrap his head around his current situation, and his racing thoughts refused to let him fall asleep. Here he was, in a gorgeous castle. No one seemed in a real hurry for him to leave. He’d met almost everyone on the staff, and he got the feeling that they were very happy to have him there. He wasn’t sure why the castle was fully staffed when it was obvious that their master wasn’t entertaining anyone, but there they were, from the youngest kitchen boy all the way up to Christopher and Joseph, who seemed to share management of the staff. Brian seemed delighted to cook whatever Lance might be hungry for, Joseph gave him a grand history of the family, and Christopher made sure all sorts of ladders were available to reach the highest books in the library. 

He knew he could leave whenever he wanted. He was fully recuperated, and the wound on his knee left only a faint scar. He wasn’t sure that he WANTED to go back home. He was sure his parents were concerned, and he wished he could send his father a message. Christopher said he could, but he wasn’t sure what to say. “Sorry I ran off like that, I’ve been holed up in the castle of my dreams for the past few weeks” didn’t seem quite right. 

There was also the matter of his mysterious host. He’d never seen him, the staff talked of him only when they were shut in a room, and there seemed to be no evidence that he even existed. Lance never saw anyone head up to the east wing, never saw an extra cup or dish or dinner platter. He never heard the master speak, never heard his carriage come and go. It was all very dramatic and interesting, and Lance was intrigued. He knew he couldn’t stay here forever; he was surprised this stranger had allowed him to remain this long.

All the intrigue had Lance itching to read something like a mystery novel. He put his feet in his slippers, pulled on the robe at the foot of the bed, and grabbed a candle. He padded downstairs, hoping none of the staff were still up. He was sure he’d give them a fright, wandering around the castle like a ghost. He lit a few more candles in the library, then searched the shelves for the small selection of novels. He smiled with satisfaction as he found just what he wanted. He blew out the other candles, grabbed his small candle holder, and headed out of the library.

As he returned to the main hall, he stopped and stared at the staircase to the east wing. Everyone was asleep. Surely it wouldn’t hurt to see exactly what was up there. The elusive Mr. Chasez was probably fast asleep, snoring in his bed. Lance tiptoed over to the staircase and put his foot on the first step.

“And WHERE do you think you’re going?” A voice behind him roared. 

Lance whirled around, gasping as he dropped his book. A large creature, not a dog or a bear or a person, stood before him. He was almost seven feet tall, with long shaggy hair all over. His hands and feet were huge, more paws than anything else. His teeth were long, and they were all showing as the creature’s beautiful blue eyes glared at Lance. “I…I…”

“Didn’t they tell you NOT to go up there?”

“Oh, God…” Lance whispered, almost falling as he stumbled away from the creature. “Please…don’t hurt me…”

“You should follow instructions, BOY. It could save your life.” The creature advanced on Lance until he was pressed against the closest wall.

“I…I’m sorry…” Lance closed his eyes, shaking so hard he dropped the candle holder.

“You should be.” The creature stomped on the candle to put out the flame, and stormed away.

“Jesus,” Lance whispered, sliding down the wall to sit on the cold stone floor.

Of course the master’s roars had Christopher and Joseph up to the main floor in an instant. They ran into the hall, candelabras in hand. Joseph was the first to catch sight of Lance on the floor. “Lance! Are you all right?” He knelt down in front of Lance. “You’re white as a ghost.”

“I…I…” Lance stammered.

“Calm down, Lance. Let’s get you up to your room.” Christopher handed Joseph his candelabra and helped Lance to his feet. He could feel Lance shaking.

“What happened?” Brian skidded to a stop next to them. 

“I think our friend had a bit of a fright,” Christopher said. “Could you bring up some tea, Brian?”

“Of course,” Brian whispered, watching them head for the stairs.

“I could carry you,” Joseph offered.

“Not…necessary…” Lance murmured, and Christopher smiled.

“There you go. That sounds like you. Up we go.” He helped Lance up the stairs, and removed his robe and slippers. 

“My…book…” Lance said weakly as Christopher practically shoved him into bed.

“We’ll get it later,” Joseph said in a soothing voice. 

Christopher tucked Lance in. “All right?”

“I…I saw…” Lance murmured.

A knock came at the door, and Brian entered with tea. “I don’t like the stuff very much myself, but it DOES help when you’ve had a bit of a shock,” he said, pouring a steaming cup of tea and placing it on the table near the bed.

“Please don’t tell me I imagined things,” Lance said, his voice a bit stronger after a few sips of tea. “I know what I saw. Don’t argue with me.”

“No one’s arguing with you, Lance.” Christopher surprised them all by sitting on the edge of Lance’s bed. “I know exactly what you saw.” Joseph and Brian sat on chairs nearby. “You saw a creature, oh, maybe seven or eight feet tall. He was covered in what can only be called fur. He has sharp white teeth and hairy hands and feet and the most beautiful blue eyes you’ve ever seen.”

“Yes,” Lance whispered, staring at Christopher in awe. “You’ve seen him, then?”

“I see him every day, Lance.” Christopher sighed. “He is our master, Joshua Chasez.”

 

JC burst into his suite of rooms, throwing a chair and two end tables before he finally calmed down. He’d managed to avoid that beautiful boy during his entire recuperation. JC only left his suite at night, even in the early days, when Lance Bass was too weak to leave his bed. He couldn’t bear to see those beautiful eyes looking at him in fear…as they had that night.

He knew it was partially his fault. He knew he’d scared the living hell out of his young guest, yelling at him like that. But he couldn’t’ help it. He was as shocked as Lance was. Add to that the fact that the boy was apparently planning on entering HIS part of the castle, and he couldn’t help but get angry.

The boy was gorgeous. Pale skin, those incredible eyes, pink lips. JC sighed, looking down at his rough fur and large hands. That boy was everything he would have wanted, at one time. And in the past, JC never would have had a problem getting him into his bed. But now…seeing the boy only depressed him. He’d never have a boy like that again

 

“Your…” Lance gaped at Christopher. “But…”

“We had a guest, a few years ago,” Christopher said slowly. He’d never really had to tell the story before, and he wanted to get it right, but make sure Lance believed it. “He apparently was some sort of wizard…” Christopher shook his head. “Wait. Let me begin again. Our master was everything you’ve heard. Talented, charming, so attractive. On the outside, he was an angel. Everyone loved him. However, he was not very easy to love. He was rude and selfish, arrogant and nasty. No one was worthy of his attention, and when you actually got it? It was like he bestowed some sort of gift on you. Granted, I don’t feel it was entirely his fault. His parents worshipped him, treated him like the sun rose just to shine on him. It was very easy for him to start believing it.” Christopher sighed. “He was gone for a few weeks, and when he returned, this wizard showed up. Apparently he told Mr. Chasez that the time had come for him to pay for his behavior. The wizard gave Mr. Chasez his true face, the way he looks in his heart. And until he can find someone to care for him, to look past the beast on the outside to find some beauty within…he’s stuck like that.”

“Forever?” Lance asked, and Christopher slowly nodded. “So, he’s treated you all fairly badly, I assume?” Brian and Joseph nodded, and Christopher shrugged. “But you’re still here.”

“That’s part two of the curse,” Christopher said. “Anyone who was here in the castle that night is not allowed to leave it.”

“Well, we can, but only a short distance,” Brian added.

“That’s why I couldn’t come get you the night you arrived,” Christopher said. “I couldn’t reach you.”

“You have children…and wives…” Lance realized, looking at Brian and Joseph. Joseph smiled sadly.

“They can come visit, but it’s not the same.”

“I’m so sorry. For all of you. Even…him.” Lance lay back and closed his eyes.

“Well, now you know.” Christopher stood. “Try and get some rest.”

“Thank you for telling me,” Lance said, opening his eyes. Christopher smiled and gave him a slight bow. 

Once he was alone, Lance rolled onto his side and closed his eyes…but sleep would not come for a long time.


	7. Chapter 7

WRITTEN IN THE STARS  
Seven

Lance was standing and staring out his window when Christopher brought his breakfast the next morning. “Hello,” Christopher said softly, putting the tray down and walking over to Lance. “How are you doing?”

“All right.” Lance didn’t turn from the window. “Isn’t it difficult for you?” He motioned to the world outside the window.

“Sometimes,” Christopher admitted. “As you pointed out, it’s the others who have it hard. They miss their families. Joseph doesn’t get to see his daughter growing up. Brian misses out on playing with his son. We just live in hope that somehow the master will be able to undo the curse.” Christopher shrugged. “We have to hope, or life wouldn’t be worth living.”

Lance turned to smile at Christopher. “You’re a good man. I consider you my friend…I hope that’s all right.”

Christopher actually blushed. “Of course it is. I’m glad you don’t look upon us any differently. I’m sure last night was completely surreal for you.”

“I didn’t sleep well,” Lance agreed. “But I can nap later. Did you get my book?”

Christopher pointed to the tray. The book lay next to a plate of fruit and cheese. “I figured you might want it. It’s supposed to be a beautiful day today.”

“How far can you go?” Lance looked back out the window again.

“I think it’s two yards or so…no one’s exactly measured. We all just know. Mr. Chasez is not bound to the castle…he lives in his prison every day.”

“Did he…say anything? About me?”

“He didn’t answer the door when I knocked this morning,” Christopher said honestly. “So I’m not sure what he thinks.”

“How do you get things?” Lance changed the subject. “I mean, supplies. Someone obviously takes care of the animals. I know you have chickens and some livestock.”

“The curse only affected those of us who were sleeping in the castle that night,” Christopher said. “Some of the other servants come in daily and don’t live here…so they are able to come and go.”

“I see,” Lance said softly. “Perhaps later, if it’s not too difficult for you, you could sit outside with me.”

“Perhaps,” Christopher said with a small smile. “But now I have other duties to attend to. Excuse me, Lance.” Christopher gave him a short bow and left the room. Lance sighed, picking up a piece of apple and munching on it as he opened his book.

 

Lance ended up spending most of the day outside. After their duties were done, he was able to entice Christopher, Brian and Joseph outside as well. They didn’t spend much time outside; it was too much of a reminder of how limited their world truly was. Lance kept them talking, however, and they soon forgot that they couldn’t move much further than the spot they were sitting in. 

He heard nothing about Mr. Chasez, and there was no sight of him all day long. Lance ended up taking a long hot bath in his room after being outside all day, and ate a quick dinner in front of his fireplace. Needing a change of scene, he grabbed his book and snuck back downstairs. This time, no hairy beast accosted him in the hall, and he made it to the library unscathed. He carefully returned his book to the shelves, and spent over a half-hour perusing the long shelves before choosing a book about Beethoven.

He was curled up in front of the fire on a large armchair, his mind far away in 18th century Germany, when a voice said, “You’ve made yourself quite at home, I see.”

Lance jumped to his feet, the book sliding to the floor. “I…I was…” Lance took a deep breath, swallowed deeply, and made a neat bow. After all, this was a man, a man only a few years older than he. “Good evening, Mr. Chasez.” The beast’s eyes widened in surprise, and he gave a curt bow in return. “My name is Lance Bass.” Lance took a few steps and held out his hand.

The beast looked down at the way the thin arm was shaking. He paused only a moment, and took Lance’s pale hand in his own. “Joshua Chasez, but my so-called and now-absent friends called me JC. Apparently you’ve heard our gruesome tale.”

“Yes. Christopher told me.” Lance swallowed again, forcing his eyes to look up into the beast’s face. “Thank you so much for your hospitality. I know I would have died if…”

The beast growled and turned away. “Hospitality? I’ve forgotten the meaning of the word, if I ever knew it at all. And I know it was Christopher Kirkpatrick who saved you, not I.”

“Still…you could have banished me at a moment’s notice,” Lance pointed out. “I could not have chosen a more beautiful hospital. Your home is truly amazing.”

“Yes. My parents invested a lot of time and money in this place.” JC looked around. “I never realized how fragile most of it is,” he added, remembering the chairs and tables he’d broken since the onset of the curse.

“I think this is the best room of all I’ve seen,” Lance offered shyly, looking around at the shelves of books. “This is like a dream come true to me.”

JC walked over and ran a claw over one of the spines. “I don’t know that I even remember how to read anymore. I haven’t tried in years. This never was my point of interest.”

“I’ve lived for books,” Lance said quietly. “They’re the only thing that’s been true to me in my life. People disappoint you. Books never do.”

JC looked at him sharply, surprisingly touched by the sadness in the boy’s voice. “Why are you here, Mr. Bass?”

“Well, I…I was running through the woods, and…”

“What were you running FROM, Mr. Bass?”

“I…don’t think that’s any of your business,” Lance said finally. How could he explain to someone who had everything how it felt to have your own mother turn against you? 

JC growled at him. “Mr. Bass…you come from a tiny village. Am I correct?” Lance slowly nodded. “Tiny villages are where people talk the most. I have no interest in mobs of people coming to gawk at the mysterious beast in the castle. I’m happy to spend my life in solitude. Your arrival here has intruded upon that solitude.”

“I’m…sorry…”

“You will be. Because you will now be enjoying that solitude with me for a very long time.”

“What?” Lance gasped. “You cannot keep me prisoner here!”

“Yes, I can,” JC corrected. “You’ve seen me. How am I to know that you won’t go telling all your friends about me, and then all of a sudden I have a group of angry villagers banging on my door!”

“I wouldn’t DO that!” Lance said, his voice rising to a yell. “And besides, I don’t HAVE any friends!”

JC blinked at that, but his anger was slowly building. “You brought this upon yourself, Lance Bass. You will remain here until I see fit to let you go.”

“I can go whenever I want! No one in this castle can stop me!” Lance said. “They can’t leave, remember?” Lance backed towards the door.

“And where will you go, Mr. Bass?” JC slowly followed him. “Can you find your way back home? You got lost in a simple plot of woods. And have you forgotten the creatures that dwell in those woods? They chased you before, from what I hear.”

“I’ll find my way back. I’ll not be kept a prisoner!” With a sudden burst of speed, Lance darted around JC and headed for the front hall. 

JC thundered after him with a roar, skidding to a stop as he watched Lance throw open the huge doors and run out into the night. “You’re a fool!” JC shouted.

“What’s going on, sir?” Christopher scampered into the hall with Brian at his heels.

“That imbecile…that boy. I told him he was not permitted to leave the castle, so of course he went running off.” JC glared out into the darkness. “Stupid fool. Serves him right. I hope the wolves tear him to pieces.” JC whirled around, huffing with anger.

“Pardon me, sir, but did you just say you told him he wasn’t permitted to leave?” Brian asked timidly.

“Of course he cannot leave. He’d bring nothing but trouble.”

“Sir…” Christopher paused for a moment. “Do you realize that was probably a horrible idea? You’ve seen what happened…you only made him want to leave more. And did you REALLY have to tell him he was a prisoner? I think that was, well, stupid, sir.”

“Christopher, I have not yet struck anyone in this house. Do not tempt me,” JC snapped.

“He’s a good man, sir. A kind man. He would not bring you harm,” Christopher promised. “And, honestly, do we really want to take the chance of turning away a friend? Someone that could possibly…”

“DON’T say it.”

“I liked him,” Brian said softly. “He was nice. And smart.”

“And many other things,” Christopher commented. He looked out into the night. “If I could, I’d go out and bring him back. Explain things to him. He’s probably already lost. And it’s cold…he has no jacket. I know for a fact there are bears, and wolves, and…”

“Goddammit, Kirkpatrick, be quiet.” JC pulled himself to his full height. “This is ridiculous. Fine. I’ll go find the idiot. But don’t expect me to be nice to him.”

“Oh, no…wouldn’t expect THAT,” Brian muttered quietly.

“Wonderful idea, sir. Good luck,” Christopher said cheerfully. JC gave him a growl and darted off into the night.

 

Lance angrily thrashed through the woods, not caring that he didn’t have on a coat, that the night was cold, or that he had NO clue where he was going. What right did that creature have, saying that he was a prisoner there? Granted, he HAD taken advantage of the…man’s…hospitality, but he had no right!

Lance stopped running when his foot caught on a root and he went flying down to the ground. He pulled himself up on hands and knees, panting for breath. He slowly stood up, hands on his hips, and tried to get his bearings. The moon darted in and out of the clouds, so that wasn’t much help. He tried to see the stars through the canopy of trees, attempting to get some sort of feel for where exactly he was. The hair the back of his neck seemed to rise just as he heard a branch snap. Then he heard a growl…followed by another growl.

Lance slowly walked backwards, eyes darting left and right. He couldn’t SEE anything, but he knew he wasn’t alone. His back hit a large tree and he scrambled to stay on his feet. He saw three large shapes rise out of the darkness, and he swallowed hard. The moon pulled away from the clouds, and three sets of eyes glittered at him.

“Oh…God…I should have listened to that damn beast.” Lance turned his head and closed his eyes, waiting for the inevitable.

A large thump in front of him made his eyes fly open. The beast stood in front of him, slightly crouched. One wolf finally took the incentive to jump, and the beast sent him flying. Another wolf growled and pounced, and the beast backhanded him across the face. The wolf fell to the ground, whimpering. The third wolf paced a bit, then jumped from the side, teeth managing to sink into the beast’s left bicep. The beast yelped and grabbed the wolf by the scruff of the neck, throwing him yards away. The beast turned and looked at Lance.

“Oh, God, thank you. I mean, I’m sorry. I mean…”

The beast grabbed him and put him under his right arm as easily as if Lance were a book from the library. Lance yelled in surprise, but the beast ignored him. He ran through the woods, quickly reaching the castle. The door flew open as they approached, and Christopher stared at them in shock. The beast unceremoniously dumped Lance at Christopher’s feet, then galloped up the staircase to his wing of rooms.

“Are you all right?” Christopher asked Lance, helping him to his feet.

“Yes. Just some scratches and a few bumps,” Lance told him. “But he’s hurt. Mr. Chasez. A wolf got him by the arm.”

“I’ll go check on him,” Christopher said. He hurried up the stairs. 

Lance grabbed the closest candelabra and headed for the library. He knew exactly what he was looking for, and where he could find it. He grabbed the large volumes and sat them down on the table, flipping through them to find what he wanted. He read quickly, then took the smaller of the two books and headed out of the room. He was climbing the second step of the staircase when Christopher came running back down.

“You need me,” Lance said before Christopher could speak. “Is there anyone here with medical training?”

“Well…no…”

“I don’t really have any, either, but I’ve read some things…and I found this book.” Lance held it up. “It’s a book on medicinal treatment for animals. That library really DOES have everything.”

“All right. Come on.” Christopher turned back around. “He’ll be angry, but he looks pretty bad.” 

“We’ll need some bandages and clean water,” Lance said. “There’s a book open in the library, on the table. There’s a recipe there for a salve that we can put on the wound. I’m assuming it would work for him now as well as if he were human.”

Christopher knocked on a door, then opened it. “Sir, Lance is going to help you.”

“Go away!”

“We need to look at your wound, sir. Please,” Christopher begged. “Let us help you.”

Lance slowly walked into the dark room, lit only by a small candelabra. “Mr. Chasez, it’s the least I can do for you. You saved my life.”

“Idiot,” the beast snapped. He was curled up on a corner on what used to be a large bed. Lance could see that most of the furniture in the room was smashed into pieces. 

“I’ll get those supplies, and have Brian start making the salve,” Christopher murmured, hurrying out of the room.

“Christopher is going to bring us some water and bandages, and then I found something that should help you heal,” Lance said soothingly. “Can you come towards the light, so I can take a look at that?”

“You don’t look so good yourself,” JC commented as Lance set his candelabra down.

“Dirt and cuts, mostly,” Lance said. “Nothing that won’t heal itself. Let me see your arm.” JC mutely turned himself so his arm reflected in the light. The cut was deep, but Lance didn’t think he would h-ave to sew it shut. The LAST thing he wanted to do was jab the beast’s arm with a needle.

“Here you go.” Christopher returned with a bowl of water, cloths, and bandages. “Brian said he should have the salve ready in about twenty minutes.”

“Thank you, Christopher,” Lance said. He quickly wet one of the cloths and washed his hands as best he could. 

“Do you need me to help you?” Christopher asked doubtfully, looking from his sullen master to the bruised young man in front of him.

“I think we’ll be fine,” Lance said. “Just go wait for that salve, if you could.”

“All right.” Christopher gave him one more worried look, then left.

“Let’s see. This may sting a little,” Lance warned, wetting another cloth and reaching for the beast’s arm.

“Let me do it,” the beast growled. “I’m not helpless.” He swiped the cloth from Lance’s hands and began to dab at the wound.

“At that rate, you’ll never get it clean.” Lance stole the cloth back and held the creature’s wrist firmly. “Let me do it.”

The beast growled louder but didn’t move. He hissed in a breath as Lance firmly scrubbed the blood away from his fur. Christopher returned with the salve, and was surprised to see his master sitting docilely by Lance’s side, his large arm in Lance’s hands. Christopher mutely handed over the salve and left the room again.

“You shouldn’t have run away.”

“You shouldn’t have yelled at me,” Lance retorted, calmly applying the salve.

“You shouldn’t have run away!” JC repeated loudly.

“Fine.” Lance bit his lip. “I realize why you want me to stay. You’re afraid they’ll come after you.”

“I’m not AFRAID of anything,” JC corrected.

“We need to keep this covered for twenty-four hours, and then we will change the dressing,” Lance told him, carefully winding a bandage around the creature’s arm. 

“I could have done this myself,” JC told him. “I don’t need anyone’s help.”

Lance sighed. “Of course not.”

“But th-thank you,” JC stammered. “I would not have done as good of a job.”

“You’re welcome,” Lance said with a tiny smile. “I think I’m going to clean up and turn in. This was definitely enough adventure for one night.”

“If you’d have listened to me…”

Lance sighed again. “You are the most stubborn person I’ve ever met. Maybe if you wouldn’t have acted like some sort of prison warden, I wouldn’t have run away. Think of that?”

“If you wouldn’t have acted like an idiot…”

“Good night, Mr. Chasez.” Lance stomped out of the room without another word. JC let out a roar of frustration.


	8. Chapter 8

WRITTEN IN THE STARS  
Eight

“Tea,” Joseph announced, carrying the tray into the library. 

Lance looked up, startled. “Is it that time already?”

“You’ve been in here reading since breakfast, sir,” Joseph said, pouring the tea and handing a cup to Lance.

“I guess I have.” Lance took a sip and set the cup down. He stood up, yawning and stretching. “I tend to lose myself in books.”

“I thought you’d be outside. I know Christopher was planning on joining you there later.”

“I’m still feeling a little sore from my adventure last night,” Lance said wryly, rubbing at his shoulder. “So I thought I’d stay in.” He picked up the cup and wandered around the room a bit, stopping at a beautifully carved wooden chess set on a table in the corner. “This is gorgeous! I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“I believe the master picked it up in Turkey, or someplace like that,” Joseph commented.

“He really has been around,” Lance murmured, picking up a knight and rubbing a finger over it. “Do you play?”

Joseph snorted. “I barely win at checkers. You know who DOES play? Brian. He’s quite good, so I hear. I wouldn’t know.”

“See if he’s free later,” Lance said, slowly smiling. “I haven’t played in ages, but I think a challenge like this may be just what I need to get my mind off of things.”

 

Brian wasn’t able to join Lance until three o’clock. “I’m sorry…the master asked for a rather complicated stew for dinner.” Brian removed his jacket and sat down across from Lance. 

“I thought he’d want steaks and fancy meals,” Lance said.

“Well…he, uh, can’t really use a fork and knife,” Brian explained.

Lance blushed. “Of course. Silly of me.” He rubbed his hands together. “You take the first move.”

They played in silence for almost twenty minutes before they were joined by Christopher, then Joseph. There was occasional ribbing and joking, but Lance had to deeply concentrate on the game. Brian was better than he’d expected.

“Where did you learn to play?” Christopher asked. 

“My brother taught me,” Brian said. “He thought he’d found something to beat me at, but he was wrong.”

“My father taught me,” Lance said softly. “We used to play by the fire in the evenings.”

The door to the library burst open and they all jumped. “So, this is what my castle has come to? I can find no one to wait on me!” JC growled.

Joseph, Brian and Christopher jumped to their feet and bowed. “My apologies, Mr. Chasez.” Lance slowly stood as well. “I asked Brian to play with me, when he was free from his duties.”

“Dinner is prepared and will be ready on time, sir,” Brian promised.

JC looked down at the chessboard. “You play well,” he observed. “Both of you.”

“You play?” Lance asked politely.

JC looked down at his large hands. “I did at one time. I was surprisingly good. No one ever expected it of me. But…I haven’t played in a while.”

“I see,” Lance said softly. “I hope you don’t mind that we…”

“Of course not. Apparently my staff is here to do YOUR bidding, not MINE, so feel free to do whatever you like.” JC stalked out of the room. Lance and Christopher rolled their eyes at each other.

“There are days that I feel more like a nurserymaid than anything else,” Christopher said, and Lance burst out laughing.

 

About an hour later, Christopher knocked on his master’s door. “Do you need anything, Mr. Chasez?”

“So NOW you are concerned about my needs?” JC snapped.

“Mr. Chasez, you sound jealous,” Christopher said, hiding a smile.

“Of what? I have nothing to be jealous of.” JC stalked over to the window, looked out for a moment, then turned back to Christopher. “Our guest thinks himself very smart.”

“He IS smart,” Christopher corrected. “Well, not that I’d really know, but he seems to enjoy reading and thinking about things. He seems to enjoy the sciences…the study of nature, the study of the night sky.”

“Biology and astronomy,” JC mused. 

“He just seems to really care about learning,” Christopher said with a shrug. “He was really giving Brian a run for his money today over the chess board.”

“I want to talk to him,” JC said.

“I’ll go get…”

“Over dinner,” JC finished. Christopher’s eyes widened. JC hated to have anyone see him eat, as he could no longer keep proper table manners. “You will tell him to meet me in the dining room at seven. I could do with some intelligent conversation.”

“I’ll ask him…”

“TELL him,” JC ordered. Christopher sighed and bowed.

 

“Christopher.” Lance smiled as Christopher knocked at the door. “I didn’t expect to see you until you came for me at dinner.”

“About dinner.” Christopher actually seemed to fidget. “Mr. Chasez requests your company at the table. For dinner. Tonight.”

“Really.” Lance looked at Christopher. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. He told me to come…”

“You’re nervous. You’re never nervous like this.” Lance crossed his arms over his chest.

Christopher sighed. “Just come to dinner, all right, Lance? He said to tell you and…”

“TELL me?” Lance snapped, and Christopher groaned.

“Please, Lance, don’t be so stubborn.”

“If he would like me to join him at dinner, he can tell you to ask me. No…wait. He can ask me himself!”

“Lance,” Christopher pleaded. “He’s trying.”

“Well, he should try harder. Don’t bother with my dinner, Christopher. I ‘m not hungry.” Lance sat down and moodily stared at the floor.

“Fine,” Christopher sighed.

 

At ten minutes after seven, JC was angrily pacing the length of the dining room. “Why is he not here? Is it because he can’t stand to look at me? Is it because I can’t eat like humans do?”

“No, sir,” Christopher promised. “It’s not that at all. He…it…you…”

“Spit it out, man!”

“He’s angry because you ordered him to come down and didn’t ask him yourself,” Christopher blurted out.

“This is MY home. I have servants. They do what I say. I don’t NEED to ask him personally!”

“It would be the proper thing to do, sir,” Christopher pointed out. “You know that.”

JC actually didn’t know that. In the past, he’d always told someone to be somewhere, and they eventually showed up. “What’s proper is what I SAY is proper. Fine. He doesn’t want to eat with me? Then he doesn’t eat.”

“Sir!” Joseph gasped.

“He doesn’t eat,” JC repeated, sitting down at the large table. “BRIAN! DINNER!”

 

“No food?” Lance asked in astonishment when Christopher showed up the next morning without his breakfast tray.

“That’s what he said,” Christopher answered. “And he IS our master, so we cannot technically disobey him.” Lance opened his mouth to speak, and Christopher held up a hand. “HOWEVER, if you were to find your way to the kitchen at various times today, I’m sure there would be some plates of food leftover that you could probably eat without anyone saying anything. The master doesn’t go into the kitchen much.”

Lance slowly smiled at Christopher. “Thank you.”

“I think…he meant well, Lance,” Christopher said. “He’s…I don’t think he’s had a sincere friend in his life,” he finished. “He’s never had to MAKE friends, so he doesn’t know how.”

Lance pondered that for a long moment. “I see. I think I’ll spend most of the day outside, Christopher.” Christopher nodded and bowed before leaving the room.

 

“You know, the last time I checked, this was MY castle. MY home.”

Lance looked up from his seat on the ground near the castle. He was surrounded by pieces of paper, and he had a pair of scissors in his hand. Lance squinted a bit. “If you moved just a bit to the left, you’d block the sun for me.” The beast growled, then took a minute step to the left. Lance beamed up at him. “Better. Thank you.”

JC paused, the full force of that sunny smile twitching something in his soul. “Your presence was requested at dinner. I want to know why you refused my invitation!”

Joseph came out the door, carrying a tray with lemonade on it. His step faultered as he saw his master. Technically, they were told they couldn’t FEED Lance. They weren’t told he couldn’t drink anything. “Mr. Chasez,” Joseph whispered, bowing as best he could while holding the tray.

“Ah, thank you Joseph. I was getting thirsty.” Lance took the glass, nodded his thanks, and sipped at it. “Good.” He then went back to his scissors.

“I’m talking to you!”

Lance finished what he was cutting before looking back up at the beast. “No, Mr. Chasez, you were not talking TO me, you were yelling AT me. I may be a prisoner here, but I deserve to be treated with respect.” Lance smiled grimly. “You’ve not met my mother. I know how to deal with stubborn, rude people.”

The beast let out a yell of frustration that made even Lance jump. The beast paced around the yard a bit, then returned. “I would like to know why you refused my invitation to dinner,” JC finally said in a quiet voice. Joseph’s mouth dropped open.

“Because it was not an invitation. It was an order. You didn’t ask me. You ordered me. I am not a member of your staff. I do not need to obey your commands.”

“No, you’re not a member of my staff, but you are a guest in MY house.”

“A guest,” Lance repeated softly.

JC looked down at him for a long moment. “I…would be honored if you would dine with me tonight.” Lance raised an eyebrow. “Please.”

“I would love to dine with you tonight,” Lance said politely. “Thank you.”

“Dinner’s at seven,” the beast snapped. He started to walk away, then paused. “I…we usually dine at seven here.”

“Seven is fine. I will see you then,” Lance said. JC nodded and walked away.

Joseph waited until his master was out of earshot. “I can’t believe that just happened.”

Lance smiled. “Christopher said something that really made me think. If you’ve never had to earn a friend, how would you even know how to behave? I realized I had to be a bit more understanding.”

“You’re a miracle worker,” Joseph said, shaking his head as he headed back inside. Lance chuckled and picked up his scissors once more.


	9. Chapter 9

WRITTEN IN THE STARS  
Nine

 

When Lance arrived in the dining room, the table was set for two, though the seats were not next to each other. One setting was at the head of the table, and the other was three seats away. The head seat had a bowl and a very large goblet, while the other seat had a regular setting with cutlery and a wine glass.

The clock chimed seven as Lance entered the dining room. JC was standing by the table. “Right on time.”

“It’s not like I have much else to do,” Lance said, smiling shyly. JC waited for Lance to sit before sitting down as well. Lance looked from his setting to JC’s. “Are we eating something different?”  
“I do better using a bowl,” JC said gruffly. “And I no longer drink wine.”

“Well, I am your guest. I should eat as you do.” Lance looked up at one of the stewards, who was standing a few feet away. “May I please have the same setting as Mr. Chasez? And tell Brian I will have whatever he is making for Mr. Chasez.”

“Very well,” the steward said, removing the plates and cutlery.

“Except the glass,” Lance said, placing his hand over it. “But I will have water, not wine.” He looked at JC. “I never did like the stuff much, though I’ve not had it often.”

“You’ve never tasted the real thing, then,” JC told him. “You need the sweetest wines…they trickle down your throat like honey.”

“You make it sound delicious,” Lance said. “I hope someday I can try it.”

The beast huffed a bit, which Lance took as an auditory blush. “Christopher tells me you enjoy studying.”

“Oh, yes,” Lance said eagerly. “Especially the sciences. Biology. Astronomy. I’ve even read a bit of geology, though I admit all the types of rocks seem to blend together.” Lance smiled at Brian as he entered the room carrying a large soup tureen.

“I’m glad you’ve asked for soup, Lance,” Brian said. “I made enough to feed an army, I’m afraid.” He ladled the soup into their bowls himself, then put the tureen on a side table. He bowed politely, then left the room.

“I’m surprised someone like you would be interested in things like that,” JC said. “You’re young, and not unattractive. What kind of family are you from?”

Lance blushed at the compliment, then blinked at the rudely posed question. “Well…just regular people, I guess. My father owns a small store, and my mother does a bit of gardening…I help in the store. As for someone like me being interested in things like that…it’s all I’ve known. You’re right, though…most people would not expect it.” He picked up his spoon and toyed with his soup. “And many do not understand it.”

“Ah,” the beast said simply, and picked up his soup bowl. He cleared his throat. “I’m…I’m sorry, for how I must eat,” he said finally, and Lance’s heart went out to him. “I cannot keep good table manners, which is why you’re not seated directly at my side. I don’t want to make a mess.”

“Please don’t apologize,” Lance said. “And I’m sure I’ve seen worse table manners than yours. At our village feasts, a few of the boys act like common hogs, shoving their faces into whatever dish is closest.” Lance politely looked away as JC began to slurp from his bowl. “This one boy, Nickolas Carter…he thinks he’s so suave and handsome, that everyone loves him. Well…when he eats, I truly wonder if he knows what a knife and fork is for. He walks away wearing half of his meal. I don’t see what Justin…” Lance stopped mid-sentence, realizing he was babbling.

JC put down his bowl and snorted, as close to a laugh as possible. “He sounds like a winner. Are these your friends?” JC asked, remembering that Lance had blurted out he had no friends.

“No. Not really.” Lance took a few sips of his water. “I don’t really have…friends…to speak of. Mr. Richardson, who runs the bookstore? He’s my friend, I guess. He’s nice to me, and we talk. But he’s older than I, and we don’t fraternize outside of that.”

“Why don’t you have friends?” JC asked.

Lance flushed. “Did YOU have friends?”

JC snorted again. “I thought so, once. But now I realize they were merely acquaintances who only wanted something from me. My money, my company, my name.”

“Well, Nickolas Carter wants nothing from me but to insult me for his own amusement,” Lance said almost angrily. “And Justin Timberlake, he wants…” Lance turned even more red.

JC looked at Lance. “What does this Justin want from you?”

“Everything,” Lance said calmly, looking the beast in the eye. “And it’s not what I want to give. Not to him. He’s the complete opposite of me. He’s attractive and charming, witty and graceful. He’s an outdoorsman who loves the hunt and the kill and the trophy. He wants the conquest. And I refuse to be that.” Lance snapped his mouth shut, mortified at what he’d admitted.

“I think you do not speak the truth,” JC said, leaning back in his chair and looking at Lance. 

“I don’t think you…”

“You are attractive and charming, in your own way, and I know you have a sharp mind.”

Lance looked down at his bowl, not sure how to react. “I…thank you.”

“Your townspeople frown on your quest for knowledge?” JC asked, and Lance nodded. “Small town minds,” JC said, rolling his eyes and growling a bit. “They fear what they don’t understand. If you’d traveled a bit, as I have…you’d see what the world is truly like.”

“I’d love to travel,” Lance said with a sigh. “I’d love to go to Italy, to see where the first scientists lived and worked. I’d love to travel to Russia. It’s so mysterious.”

“Italy is dirty and rough,” JC told him. “But the music and the art is like nothing you’ve ever seen.”

“You like the arts?” Lance asked eagerly, almost forgetting where he was and who he was talking to. “Christopher said you have a music room, but that it was being renovated. He wouldn’t let me see it. I so love music. My aunt has a pianoforte, and she taught me to play a bit. I can’t paint, or anything like that, but I love looking at that sort of thing. I see you have some beautiful paintings and tapestries here.”

“Art was frowned on in my family,” JC said, and his voice was so harsh and cold that Lance blinked.

“I’m sorry. Forgive me…we can talk of something else…”

“But I paint,” JC continued as if Lance had never spoken. “I can hold a brush, if it is large enough. It’s the only thing that connects me to humanity, sometimes,” he confided in a soft voice. Lance smiled at him. JC shuffled in his seat, obviously embarrassed. “You will sit for me. I will paint you.”

Lance raised an eyebrow at the command. “I will?”

“Yes, you will. Your eyes are such an interesting color, and I want to capture them.” Lance pushed his chair back, crossed his arms over his chest, and frowned. “What?” JC growled. “I…”

“Thank you for dinner, Mr. Chasez.” Lance tossed down his napkin and stood. “Good evening.”

“Wait!” JC snapped, and Lance froze. “I…would you mind…sitting for me? It shouldn’t take long, I just wanted to paint…you,” JC finished awkwardly. 

Lance gave him a small smile. “Of course. I’d be happy to help you, though I don’t see myself as such a wonderful subject.”

“How others see you is never how you see yourself,” JC said almost sadly. “Trust me on this.”

“I have something for you in the library, if you’re finished eating,” Lance said suddenly.

“Something for me?”

“Well, I just…was thinking that…and it didn’t take much time to make, and…if you…could you come to the library with me?” Lance stammered, feeling more ridiculous by the moment.

JC studied Lance for a moment, then said, “If you wish.” He carefully pushed back his chair, knowing from years of experience how easily he could kick it to the floor. He followed Lance out of the room and down to the library. “So…what is this grand surprise?”

“It’s not grand, by any means.” Lance fidgeted a bit, then led JC to the chess board.

“I told you I cannot play!” JC growled fiercely. “I don’t see how you can’t…” He stopped speaking as he stared down at the board. In place of the white pieces were squares of paper the exact size of the squares on the board. The pieces were crudely drawn on the paper, though easily recognizable.

“I realize you cannot pick up the pieces,” Lance said softly. “So I made pieces for you. I figured you would want to be white…white has the first move, after all. You can move them with this.” Lance held out a wooden spoon with a long handle. “I asked Brian for it. You can hold the wide end of the spoon, and push the paper around with the handle.” JC stared at him, and finally took the spoon. Lance looked half-afraid that the beast might hit him with it. “I just…I thought this way we…I mean, you…could play, if you wanted. If you need to pick something up and you can’t manage it, your opponent could assist you. But you’d be playing on your own.”

JC cleared his throat a few times, then sat in the chair by the paper pieces. “Sit,” he said, motioning towards the seat across from him. Lance quietly sat. JC studied the board for a moment, then studied the spoon in his hand. He placed the end of the handle against a square of paper, and slowly moved it into place. “Your move.”

 

Christopher stood staring through the crack in the library door, hands clutching a silver tea tray. “Oh my GOD,” he whispered.

“What are you doing?” Brian whispered behind him.

“Take this.” Christopher shoved the tray at Brian. When Brian had a firm grip, Christopher let go and began dancing around like a little boy.

“What is going on?” Joseph hissed.

“Mr. Chasez is making a friend,” Christopher whispered back, beaming with joy.


	10. Chapter 10

WRITTEN IN THE STARS  
Ten

When Christopher showed up at Lance’s door the next morning without the breakfast tray, Lance wasn’t really surprised. The beast had been civil the night before, but Lance was still a prisoner in his home. “Good morning, Christopher,” Lance said, closing his book. “I suppose I’ll be sneaking down to the kitchen again today?”

“No. The master requests your company in the dining room,” Christopher said, unable to keep from smiling. “And he did use the word “request.” He said he would have asked you last night but it slipped his mind…honestly I think he didn’t know quite how.”

“Well. All right, then,” Lance said, blushing a bit. He combed his hair and put his shoes on. 

“You’re working some sort of magic, Lance,” Christopher confided as they went down the stairs. “I’ve not seen him act like this in, well…ever.”

“I’m not doing anything but treating him as I would like to be treated,” Lance said. “Hopefully he can take the hint and learn something.” He stopped short in the doorway to the dining room. “Good Lord!”

Joseph smiled as he put down a plate and mug for Lance. “Good morning, Lance.”

“What IS all this?” Lance stared at the table, which was laden with pancakes, meats, potatoes, eggs and fruit.

“The master asked for it,” Joseph said with a shrug.

Brian appeared in the doorway that led down to the kitchen. “He asked what you normally ate, and I told him you usually ate light for breakfast. He then growled that you needed fattening up, and told me to serve whatever I thought appropriate.”

“Fattening up?” Lance’s eyes widened. 

“Sounds like he plans on having YOU for breakfast,” Joseph chuckled.

“Hopefully I don’t anger him too much, or you may be right,” Lance said weakly, staring at all the food.

“Maybe he feels bad for saying we shouldn’t feed you,” Brian suggested. Lance blushed.

“Coffee or tea?” Joseph asked.

“Um, I’ll have coffee today, I think.” 

Joseph poured coffee for Lance and tea for his master as the beast came into the room. “Sir.” Joseph bowed respectfully and put the pots on the sideboard.

“I hope you can find something to eat here,” JC said, sitting at the head of the table. 

“If I can’t, I must be crazy,” Lance said. “What would you like?” Lance picked up serving utensils and looked at the creature. He smiled as he realized the beast had attempted to smooth his fur a bit, and it looked cleaner than normal.

“Well, a little of everything, I suppose,” JC said. He seemed slightly uncomfortable, but allowed Lance to serve him.

Lance served the beast, then served himself some pancakes and bacon. He poured a bit of syrup onto his plate, then gave the container to JC. “This is all I’ll need. Feel free to dip your food into it, if it’s easier.”

“Th-thank you,” JC said gruffly. 

They ate quietly for a moment, then Lance said, “How is your arm?”

“Almost as good as new. It would have healed eventually.”

“Of course,” Lance said with a sigh.

“But…I know your care helped. Thank you,” JC said. Lance smiled and nodded. “What are your plans for today?” 

“Well…I hadn’t thought much of it. I figured I would find a new book and go out to read.”

“I thought perhaps we could walk a bit. The grounds are extensive to the south, and there are a few pretty paths. I’ve…not gone out there for a while,” the beast confided. 

Lance bit back the question of why, and simply said, “That sounds nice. Perhaps you could get some new ideas for your painting?”

“Perhaps,” JC said. He dipped the pancake into the syrup and tried not to get it on his fur. The last thing he needed was insects flying at him when they were outside. “What kind of books have you been reading?”

“Well, there’s such an extensive collection…I’ve been trying to read things I’d never see in our bookshop,” Lance told him. “I finished the Beethoven biography, and now I’m reading something on the Arabs. I heard you’ve been to Turkey?”

“Yes. Once,” JC said, and did not elaborate.

“Thank you…for letting me wander around your books like that,” Lance said shyly, to change the subject. “It’s like a dream come true.”

“You’re welcome. I’m glad someone is getting use out of that room. I know I haven’t spent much time there over the last few years,” JC said. “Tell me more about this Justin Timberlake.”

“There isn’t much more to tell, really,” Lance said evasively, feeling himself blush.

“I want to know. Tell me,” the beast snapped.

Lance decided to ignore the rudeness. “He’s two years younger than I am, and I’ve known him all my life. For so long he was one of those gangly young boys always trying to get attention. From both boys and girls. He’s amusing, you know…that type of person usually is.” Lance put down his knife and fork and stared into space. “I was jealous of him, actually. I never had the type of personality where I wanted people to look at me.”

“They can’t help but look at you,” JC said, and Lance froze. JC seemed embarrassed. He took a gulp of his tea and motioned for Lance to continue.

“So…he was always swaggering around, you know, getting people to notice him. He has this…well…harem, I guess you could say, of young people who follow him around now. Nickolas Carter, a few girls. Whatever mood strikes Justin, he chooses one of them. And one day, he noticed me.” Lance shrugged. “I’m not sure why. I mean, I know what he wants, but I don’t know what made him look at me like that.”

“You’ve said no to him?”

“Yes.”

“Have you said yes to anyone else?”

“No!” Lance said almost indignantly. “I don’t want…that…with anyone until I’m in love.” Lance turned a furious red and poked at his bacon. “I suppose that sounds silly.”

JC didn’t comment on that. “He noticed you because no one else had,” he said simply. “You’re attractive and elusive. You’re something he doesn’t have. Another trophy for his wall.” JC sighed, remembering how many young men he’d treated in the same way.

“That’s it!” Lance slapped the table. “I TOLD my mother that, and she didn’t want to hear it.”

JC almost smiled at the sudden outburst. “Well, I’m finished here. Shall we walk?”

 

Over the next few days, JC and Lance fell into a routine of eating breakfast together, then walking around the grounds of the castle. JC still acted rudely, and he ordered Lance around without thinking twice, but Lance would either ignore him or walk away altogether until he apologized and acted in a more civil manor. The staff didn’t know WHAT to think. They were afraid to get too hopeful. The ones closest to JC, however, especially Christopher, were happy to see their master making a friend. 

“I still don’t know why you want to paint ME,” Lance grumbled as JC ordered Joseph around.

“No, there. In the SUN,” JC growled, pointing to first one spot, then another at the edge of the allotted space around the castle.

“Yes, sir,” Joseph said with a sigh, rolling his eyes as he moved a chair from one place to the next.

“His skin is pale, sir,” Christopher pointed out in a whisper. “I wouldn’t keep him there for long.”

“I KNOW that,” JC snapped over his shoulder. Christopher nodded and smiled pleasantly.

“Of COURSE you do, sir.”

“Put the chair there,” JC said finally. “I’ll put it where I want it.”

“Yes, sir.” Joseph thunked the chair down, trying not to growl back.

JC picked up the chair and put it in the shade of a large tree. Sun speckled through the leaves. “Sit,” he ordered. Lance raised a perfect eyebrow. “Oh, for God’s sake, PLEASE sit,” JC growled.

Christopher hid a laugh as Lance smiled triumphantly and sat down. The sun flickered over Lance’s face, making the green eyes glow. “How is this?”

“Perfect,” JC whispered. He gathered his supplies and the easel, moving in to place. “You two may go, though I know you’ll just spy on us anyway.”

“We will do no such thing, sir!” Christopher protested. “We have a lot of work to do!”

“Whatever,” JC said, but his voice wasn’t as rough as usual. The two men went back inside. JC looked at Lance for a long moment. “Lean your arm on the back of the chair…turn to your right…chin up…perfect. Can you hold that?”

“I’ll try,” Lance said. 

JC had large containers of green and yellow paint, and a large brush. He’d spent hours the night before trying to mix the exact shade of Lance’s eyes, and had gotten fairly close. “Have you ever tried painting?”

Lance snorted, trying not to move. “Hardly. I can barely draw a stick figure. I admire you greatly for even trying.”

“You like music.” 

“I love it. In any form. I’m not a church-loving man, but I do enjoy the music.”

“I’ve always loved anything artistic,” JC said, and Lance froze. It was very rare that JC offered any information about his past without Lance having to ask first. “Sculpture. Painting. Music.”

“Have you been to the opera?”

“Oh, yes. I loved it. I spent most of my nights in Paris at the opera,” JC said, sighing. He tried not to remember the beautiful dancers and singers he’d bring back to his rooms at the end of the night. He knew Lance didn’t want to hear about THAT. “Someday we should…” JC froze, paintbrush in mid-air. 

“So you love the arts,” Lance said gently, trying to keep things from getting too awkward.

“I always have. But I never was permitted to do anything about it.” JC dabbed some paint on the canvas. “I wanted to sing, wanted to paint. But that was something that one only did as a hobby, and then only enough to perform in society. One time, when I was in my teens, I missed an important party because I lost track of time while painting.” JC stared into space. “My father took my art supplies and burned them. I never replaced them.”

“My God,” Lance whispered. 

JC seemed to remember where he was. “You moved. Stop moving.”

“Yes, sir,” Lance retorted, rolling his eyes dramatically. JC snorted and continued painting.

“What do you love?” JC asked. “Besides reading.”

“Well…” Lance thought for a moment. “Space.”

“Space?” JC looked around the easel at him.

“Yes, space,” Lance said, a dreamy look on his face. “Outer space. The stars. The planets. We don’t know what’s out there. It could be another world just like ours, or strange beings with ten eyes and six arms. The moon could be a cold, barren rock, or it could be a rocky land full of animals. We don’t know. And I LIKE that we don’t know.” Lance sighed without realizing it. “Man is going up there someday. Science fiction novels say so, and I believe it.”

JC didn’t answer. He was too busy capturing the far-off look in Lance’s eyes. “Mm-hmm,” he said finally.

“I’m sorry. I’m babbling,” Lance said, his cheeks turning pink.

“No, you’re not. It’s nice to see someone so interested in something they enjoy. I used to feel that way. About a few things, but mostly music and art. But after my parents scoffed at my ambitions, I closed that part of myself away. Locked it up.”

“That’s so sad,” Lance said softly. “A life without beauty…”

“I didn’t say my life was without beauty,” JC snapped. “My life was full of beautiful things, and beautiful people. Someone like you would have no idea.”

“I’m sure I don’t,” Lance said, looking down.

JC actually felt a stab of guilt at the look on Lance’s face. JC knew Lance hadn’t meant anything by what he’d said, and his own response had been completely condescending. “You moved your head,” JC growled, instead of apologizing.

“My neck is getting sore,” Lance replied. “Would you mind if we stopped?”

“But I’m just getting to a place where…” JC began, then said, “Of course we can stop. This is a good time to stop.” He put down his brush.

“I’m not feeling well. The sun, maybe? I’m going to go lie down.”

“Of course.” JC stood. “I hope you feel better.”

“Thank you.” Lance all but ran into the house. 

JC kicked the chair in frustration, then went tearing into the woods, roaring as he went.

 

Lance took dinner in his room that evening, and the beast did not send for him. Lance didn’t mind; he needed time to himself. Every time he saw some sort of decency inside the beast, the creature would do or say something that was completely insulting or rude. Lance tried to keep up a good front, but he was only human. The words cut sometimes, and he was used to a history of insults and abuse. 

Lance was finally starting to see a heart below the fur. The creature had a sly sense of humor, and a true appreciation for beauty. Lance noticed it in their conversations as they walked around the grounds. And the creature was intelligent, though Lance had a feeling that intelligence had been suppressed along with any artistic inclinations.

A knock at the door surprised him. “Lance, I’m sorry to bother you, but the master’s arm…it needs tending to,” Christopher said quietly. “He won’t let me touch it, but it looks swollen. Perhaps the bandages need changing?”

“He probably over did it this afternoon…pulled at the cut a bit,” Lance said with a sigh. “Of course I’ll look at it.” He pulled on his slippers and robe. “You don’t need to take me up there, Christopher. I’ll go on my own.” Lance took the basin of water, container of salve and fresh bandages that Christopher held out.

Lance hurried as fast as he could without spilling the water. He gently knocked on the beast’s door. “Enter.”

Lance came in and closed the door with his foot. “Good evening…I thought I’d see how your injury was doing.”

“It’s fine,” JC growled from his spot on the bed. 

“Humor me,” Lance said simply. He didn’t wait for the beast to rise, but instead brought the candelabra closer. He carefully set it down, then fetched his supplies. “You’ve been busy,” he remarked as he unwound the dirty bandage. “Yes. As I thought. You were apparently fighting off a horde of thousands and pulled the incision apart.” He began to clean and rebandage the wound.

“Not thousands, just hundreds,” JC said, and Lance smiled at the attempted joke. “I…was running through the woods. I guess I hit my arm or something.”

“I guess so,” Lance said. “But it’s fine now.” He patted the bandage and smiled up at the beast. He gasped slightly at the beautiful blue of the beast’s eyes, clear and bright even in the dim candlelight.

“I’m sorry about what I said to you earlier,” JC said. “About someone like you not knowing about my life?”

“You were right. I live a life nothing like yours. I couldn’t possibly know,” Lance replied, playing with a piece of bandage.

“You live a life with a family that loves you,” JC corrected. “I never had that. My parents raised me and cared for me in the basic ways, but I don’t know that they loved me. I was another possession to show off, like a stallion or a purebred pet.”

“I’m sure they…”

“I wasn’t allowed to do or say anything that could embarrass them or reflect poorly on the way they raised me,” JC said bitterly. “No art, no music, nothing that wasn’t worthwhile in their eyes. I hated them for that…and then I think I started to hate everyone else.”

“I’m sorry,” Lance whispered. JC huffed but didn’t reply, staring towards the window. “My mother is ashamed of me,” Lance said in a very quiet voice, and JC’s head whipped back around. “She hates that I’m not Justin Timberlake. I’m not witty or outgoing, I’m not a flirt. I don’t hunt or trap like the other men, and I am not popular. She hates me.”

“I’m sure she doesn’t hate you,” JC said, trying to choose the right words. A lump formed in his throat as Lance’s eyes filled with tears.

“She said that her friends all pity her because of me. She has to try to FIND something to brag about, because I don’t give her anything to be proud of. She doesn’t approve of men being in relationships with other men, but I said no to Justin Timberlake, TWICE, and she was horrified. The only way I can make her proud that I’m her son is if I let him…f-fuck me.” Lance stood and walked to the window. “THAT’S what I was running from that night. That’s how I ended up here. Total strangers took me in when my mother showed me I wasn’t good enough to be her son.”

JC got up and followed him. He paused, then put a hand on Lance’s shoulder, squeezing gently. “Maybe she’s just not good enough to be your mother.”

Lance shivered, both at the gentle touch and the kind words. “Th-thank you,” he said simply. He looked JC in the eye, placing his hand over JC’s.

JC jumped. No one voluntarily touched him. Lance quickly pulled his hand away, muttering an apology. “I have a gift for you,” JC said suddenly. “Something very special, and I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before. Tomorrow night. But you have to cheer up, and…and smile for me. All right? Can you do that?”

Lance had to smile, because he was sure no one had heard such a cajoling sweet tone come from the mouth of JC Chasez. “You don’t have to give me anything.”

“I want to,” JC said roughly, then added, “Consider it payment for being my doctor…and for letting me paint you.”

“All right,” Lance said. The clock chimed and his eyes widened in surprise. “I should get to bed, as should you.”

“I don’t sleep much,” JC admitted. “But…before…I could sleep all day. I loved to sleep.”

“It will catch up with you someday,” Lance said. He gathered his things. “Good night, JC.”

“Good night, Lance,” the creature said, watching Lance leave the room.


	11. Chapter 11

WRITTEN IN THE STARS  
Eleven

“So…he said he has a gift for you?” Christopher asked for the third time.

“Yes, Christopher,” Lance said patiently, watching as Christopher put his laundry away. “Let me help…I’m not royalty.” Lance grabbed some shirts and put them in a drawer.

Christopher snatched back the rest of the wash. “NO. I don’t ever get to wait on someone other than the master…just let me be happy, all right?”

“Fine.” Lance rolled his eyes and sat back down.

JC had sent a message to Lance that morning, saying he would be away from the castle and couldn’t join him for breakfast. Lance was surprised at the thoughtful action, and also quite impressed. “I honestly don’t know what he might want to give you,” Christopher mused. “He has many beautiful things.”

“None of which I deserve,” Lance said. “I haven’t DONE anything.”

“You haven’t DONE anything?” Christopher almost screeched. He threw a shirt at Lance, hitting him in the face. “Lance, he says please. He says thank you. I think he might have actually SMILED yesterday. And he’s only done all of that since your arrival.”

“I’m sure I…”

“Take credit for it, because it’s true,” Christopher ordered. “When I get out of here, the first thing I’m doing is finding your town and taking you out for a drink to celebrate.”

“I bet that’s not the FIRST thing you do,” Lance said slyly.

“You’re right…finding you may be the SECOND thing I do,” Christopher agreed, and Lance laughed.

 

“I hope you appreciate this,” Joseph said as he led Lance up the flight of stairs to JC’s wing. “He’s had me working like a dog all day.”

“Thank you,” Lance said absently as they passed JC’s suite and headed down a bit further.

“Have a good evening,” Joseph said with a shrug and a wink. He knocked at the door and walked away.

The door flew open in Lance’s face. “Um, good evening,” Lance said in surprise.

“Hello,” JC said almost shyly. His fur was clean and carefully groomed, and he wore a clean jacket and pair of pants. “I thought we could have dinner in here.”

“I’m sure that…” Lance’s mouth dropped open at the splendor of the room he was in. It was an elegant sitting room, with brocade and silk furnishings. Candelabras stood around the room, flicking light on the beautiful furniture.

“This was my parents’ suite,” JC said quietly. “The bedroom is through that door…” he motioned across the room. “I had Joseph and the staff clean it up.”

“We could have used the dining room,” Lance said faintly, reaching out to stroke the back of a chair. “This is almost too beautiful to use.”

“The entire castle used to look like this,” JC said. “But now…it’s not…”

“It’s not you,” Lance finished for him, trying to imagine the beast spending his time on a silk chaise lounge.

“I don’t know that it ever was,” JC murmured. “Dinner is served over here.” He led the way to a small table set for two. 

“Thank you,” Lance whispered, still in awe of the beautiful room. 

He managed to make small talk while moving his spoon in and out of his mouth, but he couldn’t get over the lavish finery all around him. He knew that this room alone cost enough to feed his family for at least a year if not two. He wondered how much money JC truly had. 

“Are you all right?” JC asked. “Is something wrong with the food?”

“No. Of course not.” Lance quickly shoveled in some more. “So…what did your father do, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“He didn’t do much of anything,” JC said. “My great-grandfather bought some property, started farming. My grandfather, and my father, managed the properties and the farms. My grandfather also bought some ships, and we have a few lines of cargo that we run. So…we have a lot of money and did nothing to actually EARN it.”

“Oh,” Lance said quietly.

JC looked at him expectantly. “Are you finished? I’d…I’d really like to give you the gift now.”

“I can be done, yes,” Lance said, amused at the way the beast seemed to fidget in his chair.

“Good.” JC stood up, took a deep breath, and motioned towards the balcony doors. “It’s out there.”

“All right,” Lance said. He looked at JC curiously, but his beastly face wore no expression. Lance went to the balcony doors and opened them. He froze in the doorway, staring at what was set up before him. “Oh, my God. Is that…”

“A telescope. I’d forgotten I had one, actually,” JC said. “A gift, I believe. An odd gift, because God knows I’d never use it.”

“I’ve never…I tried to make one once, but my lenses weren’t cut to the right specifications, and everything was blurry.” Lance ran a hand over the smooth surface of the telescope. “It’s gorgeous.”

“Well, look through it!” JC growled in exasperation.

Lance smiled at him, and bent down to look. He made a few adjustments, then gasped. “God…it’s beautiful. Just what I thought.” He moved the telescope slightly and adjusted again. 

“Here.” JC nudged a chair at him. Lance sat without moving his face from the telescope. 

JC moved back to lean against the balcony doors, watching Lance stare into the space he loved so much. Lance looked at the sparkling sky for almost a half-hour before finally pulling away. “Oh, I’m so sorry! That was rude. I just…”

“I don’t mind,” JC said quietly. “That’s why I gave it to you. Because I knew how much you’d enjoy it.” 

“Thank you. It’s the most wonderful thing anyone’s ever shown me,” Lance gushed.

“I’m not showing it to you, Lance. It’s yours. For you to take home.”

“Take home?” Lance gasped.

“You’re not a prisoner, Lance. I have no right to keep you here. I know you’re not the type of person that would send a mob after me. I think I’ve known that all along. I kept you here out of purely selfish reasons.”

“I could have left days ago,” Lance said. “I know that. I didn’t want to leave.”

JC cleared his throat, obviously touched. “You need to go home, Lance. You need to show your mother that you’re a son to be proud of. And if she cannot see it, then she is not worth your time. None of them are. You’re a much better man than anyone else in that small town of yours.”

“I…I don’t know what to say.”

“Say thank you, and that you’ll keep me in your prayers,” JC said, looking everywhere but at Lance. “I can use all the help I can get.”

“Thank you,” Lance whispered, reaching up to tenderly touch the beast’s face. “And I don’t normally pray…but I’ll pray for you.”

 

“Well.” Lance looked at Christopher, Brian and Joseph, who were waiting for him at the bottom of the staircase. “I guess this is goodbye.” He sighed as he looked at them. He hadn’t quite believed it when the beast had said he was free to go the night before, but here he was, dressed and ready to leave. The beast was nowhere to be seen. “Thank you for everything,” Lance continued. “I don’t…I don’t know how I would have gotten through this without you three. And you saved my life when you brought me in here.”

“We’ll miss you,” Brian said, holding out his hand. Lance shook it. “Come back and visit. I’m sure the master won’t mind. I’ll brush up on my chess game.”

Lance smiled and looked at Joseph, who said gruffly, “It’s been nice getting to know you, Lance. You’re a good man.” Lance just nodded and shook his hand.

Lance looked at Christopher, who pulled him into a fierce embrace. “We’ll miss you. ALL of us,” Christopher whispered in Lance’s ear. Lance squeezed Christopher tightly, then pulled back.

“Take care. All of you. And good luck…you never know what might happen,” Lance said encouragingly.

Joseph opened his mouth to speak, then bowed quickly as someone walked down the stairs. “I think you forgot something,” the beast said to Lance. He held out a large box. “It’s heavy, but I believe you’ll be able to manage it. It won’t take you long to get through the woods in the daylight, and I’ll show you the shortest path.”

“Goodbye, Lance,” Christopher said. He and the others disappeared down the kitchen stairs.

Lance looked at the box. “I can’t…I can’t take this.”

“You must. I order it,” JC said, his voice a deep growl. “I told you. It’s a gift.”

“But…”

“Please,” JC almost begged. “Keep it to remember me by.”

“Like I could forget you,” Lance said. He carefully took the box, which, as the beast said, was not as heavy as he expected.

The beast led Lance to a corner of the property at the front of the castle, and pulled aside some brush. Lance’s eyes widened as he saw a very well-defined path. “See? You could have left any time,” the beast teased. “Follow this and you’ll find your way home.”

“JC…” Lance said, and didn’t know what else to say.

“Just say farewell,” JC said softly.

“Farewell,” Lance repeated, looking into the bright blue eyes. JC nodded once, and went galloping off in the opposite direction, tearing into the woods. Lance watched him go, sighed, then turned back to the path, half-afraid of what he might find at the other end.

 

As JC had said, it didn’t take long for Lance to find his way back to his village. Everyone was busy at their various duties, so he didn’t run into anyone. He slowly approached his father’s store, taking a deep breath. He sat the telescope by the door, took another deep breath, and pushed the door open.

His father was behind the counter, taking inventory of some tools. As the doorbell rang, he didn’t turn around, but said, “May I help you?”

“I’m a little lost,” Lance said. “I was hoping you could help me find my way home.”

Jim Bass whirled around, tools flying everywhere. “Oh my God. Lance?” Lance’s father actually vaulted the counter, skidding to a stop in front of his son. “Is it…is it really you?”

“Yes…Father…it’s me,” Lance said uncertainly. He was shocked beyond belief when his father threw his arms around him and wept in his hair.

“We thought…we thought something had happened to you. We received no word, there were sightings of giant wolves in the woods…I thought I lost you forever.”

“I’m sorry, Father…it’s all right.” Lance allowed his father to hold him close, inhaling the familiar scent of the dusty store in his father’s hair. “I’m home. I’m sorry for running off.”

“Your mother will be so happy to see you.” Jim pulled back and kissed his son’s cheeks unashamedly.

“I’m not so certain of that,” Lance couldn’t help but mumble.

“She’s felt terrible about what she said, Lance,” Jim insisted. “She prays for you every night.”

“I’m sure she does,” Lance muttered. “People can’t change overnight, Father,” he added, thinking of JC Chasez.

“Come on. I’m closing the store. We’re going to see her right now.” Jim tore off his apron and all but dragged Lance out of the store, locking the door behind him.

“Wait,” Lance said, bending to pick up the telescope.

“Let me take that.” Jim stared at the expensive-looking wooden box. “What’s this?”

“A gift,” Lance said simply, and led the way towards the house.

 

When JC returned to the castle hours later, everyone stayed out of his way. He crashed through the front door, his fur covered in brambles and dirt. He stormed up the stairs, slamming the door to his suite. He didn’t show his face for the rest of the day, and Christopher finally got brave and brought up a tray of food around seven.

“GO AWAY!” JC roared when Christopher timidly knocked at his door.

“It’s Christopher, sir. I have some dinner for you…have you eaten at all today?”

Christopher heard some crashing around, and then the beast growled, “Enter.”

Christopher opened the door and came in, setting the tray on the first solid flat surface he could find. “Sir, I was wondering if…”

“I don’t want to talk about him,” JC snapped.

“About who, sir?”

JC whirled around to look at Christopher. His face was a complete mask of innocence. “No one. Thank you for my dinner.”

“You’re welcome, sir.” Christopher paused. “I was just wondering, Mr. Chasez, if you’ll be taking your meals back in here again, now that Mr. Bass has left.”

JC glared at him. “You’re not as smart as you think you are, Kirkpatrick.”

“I don’t think I’m smart at all, sir. Dumb as a board,” Christopher said cheerfully.

“You’re probably wondering why I sent him away. Why I finally let him go free.”

“I don’t wonder anything like that, sir. Too dumb, remember?”

JC felt a smile slowly creep across his face, and he quickly turned it into a stony frown. “I don’t need him bothering me. He’s just a young country bumpkin.”

“Yes, sir. From a very small village, so I hear,” Christopher agreed. 

“He distracted you all from your duties.”

“Absolutely, sir.” Christopher nodded. “We went outside…sat in the sun…Brian played chess. A complete distraction. I’m surprised you let him stay as long as you did.”

“I didn’t want him to go,” JC said suddenly, shocking both Christopher and himself with the admission. “He…”

“He was a good man,” Christopher said gently. “He was your friend.”

“Yes,” JC said. He picked up the candelabra and went to a corner of the room. He dragged the easel out into the light. Christopher gasped. JC had perfectly captured Lance’s face and his beautiful eyes. “I began to like him too much. I think…it would not have ended well.”

“What makes you say that?” Christopher asked.

“I’ve never felt strongly for any one person in my life. I do not know how to handle it, and in this form…I do not have a very good hold on my emotions.” Christopher snorted and JC glared at him. “I…I was starting to…and he would not have reciprocated.”

“But how do you KNOW that?” Christopher asked before he thought.

JC pulled himself to his full height as he stood in front of Christopher. “Would YOU?”

“Well…my preference runs to females, sir,” Christopher answered.

JC smiled. “You are very diplomatic in your answers, Christopher.” He sighed. “At any rate, we both know he would not be interested in someone like this. So I sent him on his way.”

“Right,” Christopher said sadly. “Well, at least you made a friend.”

“Yes,” JC agreed.

Christopher bowed. “Good night, sir.”

“Good night, Christopher.”

Christopher left the room. As he closed the door, he heard a crash on the other side. He winced, fairly certain that the easel, and its painting, were now in tatters on the floor.


	12. Chapter 12

WRITTEN IN THE STARS  
Twelve

 

“Jim Bass, what in the world are you doing back here?” Diane demanded as soon as the door of the house swung open. “I wasn’t expecting you for hours. I hope you don’t think I have dinner ready for you.”

“No, Diane, I didn’t think that,” Jim said. “I did bring a guest home for dinner…I hope you don’t mind.”

“What? So I’m just supposed to throw something together and…” Diane turned around from where she was washing vegetables at the sink. She dropped a cabbage into the sink with a plunk as her face turned white. “James?”

“Hello, Mother.” Lance put the telescope box on the floor and stood next to his father, hands clenchin-g nervously.

“Is it really you?” Diane whispered, taking a few steps towards him, then stopping.

“You and Father act as if you’ve seen a ghost or something. Yes, Mother, it’s me.”

“Oh, my God.” Diane pressed her hands to her lips. “I…I didn’t think…I prayed…we thought…”

“That I was dead. I know. I’m sorry. I got lost…and hurt…and then some people saved me, and I rested at their home until I was well.” It was a lame explanation, but it was partially true.

“They couldn’t send someone to let us know you were all right?” Jim asked.

“Not really,” Lance said. “It’s a little complicated.”

“Well, you’re home now.” Diane came over to him and touched his cheek. “My baby.”

“Mother…” Lance began, then stopped in shock as Diane threw her arms around him and sobbed.

 

Diane cooked a huge dinner to welcome her son home, but Lance really wasn’t hungry. The argument they’d had before he left still hung between them, and he felt some of his mother’s actions were a bit forced. Jim tried to play mediator, but he couldn’t completely cut through the awkwardness that hung over the dinner table. 

After dinner, Lance insisted on washing the dishes, then he excused himself and went outside, taking the telescope with him. He found a log to sit on a few yards from the house, and he put the telescope on its tripod. He turned it this way and that, focused it for what seemed like an hour, but he couldn’t get the view he wanted. There were too many houses, too many tall trees…and no JC Chasez. Lance sighed and put the telescope back in the box. He sat on the ground, leaning against the log and thinking deep thoughts.

“It’s good no one walks around here,” his father said an hour later. “I almost tripped over you.”

“Sorry. Do you need me to help you with something?”

“No. I just wanted to talk to you.” Jim sat down next to Lance. “Things were a little strange in there tonight.”

“She said some terrible things, Father. I’m not going to forget them just like that.”

“I don’t expect you to, Lance. She’s a stubborn, hard-headed woman. I knew that when I married her.” Jim shook his head and chuckled a bit. “Deep down, I hope you know she loves you.”

“I know. I love her, too, Father. But I’m not going to let her push me around anymore. I hope you know that. I’m a grown man, and I need to start acting like one. If I can’t do something to make her proud of me, I need to accept that.”

“She’s proud of you, Lance. She just doesn’t…understand you.” Jim put a hand on his son’s knee. “Your sister…she was your run of the mill girl. Good at cooking and gardening and keeping a home. She did everything a girl’s supposed to do. And then you come along, all big green eyes and quick brain. You were like no other child we’d seen. So smart…so serious. I guess we didn’t know how to deal with you, exactly.”

“Sorry,” Lance muttered. “And you’re not the only ones…no one in this town knows how to deal with me.”

“I didn’t mean it as an insult, Lance. We just felt…well…inadequate, sometimes. You would ask us questions, and we had no clue how to answer you. Your mother…she’s very proud of your intellect, and your good heart. She just doesn’t know how to show it.”

“And she also is very interested in what others think of her, and because of me, they don’t always think WELL of her,” Lance said. “It’s all right, Father. I understand. And I will try to keep on understanding, but she has to try and understand me.”

“I know,” Jim said, nodding. “So, are you going to show me what that is?” Jim nudged the box with his toe.

Lance’s face lit up. “I’d love to, Father.”

“Going to tell me where you got it?” Jim asked as Lance began to unpack the telescope once more. Lance’s face fell.

“Not…not yet, Father. But I will.”

 

The next day, Lance was back at his spot behind the counter at the store. He needed his life to regain some sort of normalcy, though he knew he himself would never be the same. Everyone did the same thing as soon as they saw him: they exclaimed that they’d thought he was dead, and asked where in the world he’d been. They usually followed THAT by saying that he’d given his parents a horrible fright, and that he was apparently quite the ungrateful son. Lance finally started telling them that he’d been running through the woods, fell and hit his head on a log, and had lost his memory for a few weeks. They seemed to accept that, and were a bit more sympathetic.

“My Lord,” Lance moaned after lunch when the curious crowds were finally out of the store. “I almost wish I hadn’t come back.” He buried his face in his hands, rubbing at his forehead a bit.

“I’m sorry, son,” Jim said. “But this was the first day. Tomorrow something else will happen, and they’ll forget all about you.”

“I hope so.” The door opened and Lance sighed. He pulled his hands away from his face and pasted on a smile. 

“Hello, Lance.” Justin Timberlake waltzed into the shop with Nickolas Carter on his heels.

“Good morning, Justin. Hello, Nickolas,” Lance said politely. His talk with JC about Justin had made him think long and hard about the kind of person Justin was, the kind of person Nickolas was, and the kind of person he himself wanted to be. He knew he was something special to Justin, a unique person that Justin didn’t quite know how to handle. And Nickolas was just jealous, pure and simple. Lance told himself he would be polite yet firm with Justin, and friendly towards Nickolas. No matter what.

“You’re back,” Nickolas said bluntly. 

“It seems so,” Lance said. “How have you both been?”

“Fine,” Justin said. “Good to see you again. We thought you’d never come back.”

“I seem to be hearing that a lot,” Lance teased. “I can imagine why. I was fortunate to find someone to help me when I needed it. They took me in and cared for me when I was injured.”

“Where was that, exactly?” Nickolas asked. “You were in the middle of the woods, or something?”

Lance pinched himself so he’d remember to be nice. “Well, yes, but then I found my way out of the woods, to a large manor home. The servants took me in. The master of the house was very kind to me.”

“Really,” Nickolas snorted. “I don’t know that I’ve heard of a manor house on the other side of the woods.”

“Yes, really. Will you be purchasing something today?” Lance asked smoothly.

“Nickolas…why don’t you wait outside?” Justin asked.

“I’m sure that’s not necessary,” Lance said.

“Nickolas,” Justin barked, and Nickolas flounced out the door without another word.

“Must be nice having a pet,” Lance remarked, and Justin laughed.

“I’m happy to see you’re all right,” Justin said, giving Lance his beautiful smile. 

“Thank you, Justin,” Lance said in surprise. 

“I really wish you’d let me spend some time with you,” Justin said softly. “Just get to know me, Lance. I feel like you coming back here is a sign. We’re meant to be together.”

Lance started to say no, then thought again. “How about we meet tomorrow night, Justin? There’s something special I’d like to show you.”

“Really?” Justin stood up straight. “You want…all right. That sounds great.”

“Meet me at my house an hour after sunset?” Lance asked, and Justin fervently nodded.

“You won’t regret this, Lance. I promise you!” Justin leaned across the counter, gave Lance a quick smacking kiss, and darted out of the store.

 

“Did I hear you correctly?” Diane stared at Lance. 

“Yes, Mother.” Lance served himself potatoes. “I told Justin Timberlake I’d meet with him tomorrow evening. I want to show him my telescope.”

“Oh, that.” Diane rolled her eyes. “Whatever. At least you seem to have gotten some sense knocked into you. Finally. Justin Timberlake!”

Lance put down his fork and counted to ten. “Mother, I’d appreciate it if you paid very close attention to what I’m about to say.” Diane looked at him in surprise. “I love you, and I realize that we have very different views on many different things. I realized that I’ve really never tried to get to know Justin, and that wasn’t fair to him. So I’m giving him the chance. But I have the suspicion that he and I are two very different people in search of two very different things. I want to find someone who enjoys things I enjoy. Who likes what I like. Granted, I know no relationship is always like that, but I fear that Justin and I aren’t really on the same page when it comes to this sort of thing. But I’m going to give him a chance.” Diane opened her mouth but Lance held up a hand. “And I’d appreciate if you’d stop pushing him or anyone else at me. I may not be the son you wished for, but I’m the only one you have. I’d appreciate it if you would find the good in me, instead of just pointing out what disappoints you.”

“I…all right, Lance.” Diane looked at him for a long moment. “I never meant to hurt your feelings,” she said softly.

“I realize that, Mother, but you did. And I’d like it if you tried to consider all of that in the future.” Lance picked up the bowl of potatoes. “Here you go, Father.”

 

“Justin! How nice to see you,” Diane said the next evening as she opened the door. “Please come in.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Bass.” Justin stepped inside. Lance could see he was wearing his best outfit, one Justin normally saved for services on Sunday. “I don’t know that I’ve ever been inside your home, ma’am. It’s very nice.”

“Thank you, Justin,” Diane said. “Won’t you sit down?”

“We were going to go out for a bit, Mother,” Lance said, picking up a blanket. “Justin, would you mind grabbing that box by the door?”

“Of course.” Justin easily picked up the telescope. “Nice to see you again, Mrs. Bass. You, too, Mr. Bass.”

“Justin,” Jim said in amusement, rolling his eyes a bit at Justin’s over-courteous manners. 

Lance led the way out of the house and walked a few yards. “This will be good. Not too close to the house or the trees.”

“And secluded,” Justin said. Lance rolled his eyes.

Justin set up the blanket while Lance started on the telescope. He’d played around with it enough that he could set it up virtually by touch. He adjusted a few things, looked into it, then pulled away. “Here. Look through that.”

“All right,” Justin said. He peered into the telescope. “Oh, my God. Is…is that the moon?”

“Yes,” Lance said, unable to keep from smiling at the awe in Justin’s voice.

“That’s…amazing,” Justin said. “I can see why you’re so interested.”

“Isn’t it beautiful?” Lance said with a sigh.

“Where did you get this?”

“A friend,” Lance said simply.

Justin leaned back on the blanket and gently tugged at Lance’s shirt. “Why don’t you lay down here with me?”

Lance sighed but did as Justin asked, remembering that he was trying to give Justin the benefit of the doubt. “Don’t you ever wonder what’s out there?”

“Not really. I’m more concerned about what’s down here.” Justin ran a finger over Lance’s cheek.

“Well, I’m happy to share something with you that I enjoy,” Lance said weakly.

“I bet I know something I’d enjoy,” Justin murmured, nuzzling against Lance’s neck. “I bet I’d enjoy kissing you.”

Lance chuckled a bit and sat up, wiping his hands on his pants. “I don’t know about that. I doubt I’m very good at it.”

“Haven’t you ever kissed anyone?” Justin asked. Lance shook his head and sat up. “Really? Why not?”

“I just…haven’t.” Lance shrugged.

“I see,” Justin said, moving in closer again.

“Justin, what do you think about Nickolas?”

“Nickolas Carter?” Justin looked confused at the change in topic. “I don’t think about him much, really. I guess he’s nice enough. He’s attractive, and he knows what he’s doing in bed.”

Lance felt his cheeks turn pink. “You do realize how much he likes you, right? He’s really interested in you.”

Justin shrugged. “Maybe. Probably.”

“I just…I wonder why you are so interested in me, when you have someone like him. I know what the two of you do together, and I can’t imagine doing that with someone I didn’t like.”

“I didn’t say I don’t LIKE him,” Justin snapped. “He’s just…not you.”

“I know what you see in me, Justin,” Lance said gently, putting a hand on Justin’s leg. “I’m like the wolf or the deer that you just can’t catch. I’m just out of your grasp. You and I are nothing alike, Justin, and we would be horrible together.”

“But…”

“You have a group of admirers already, Justin. You’re the most attractive man in town, and I am so flattered that you’d even give me the time of day. But…I’m not looking to be temporary.”

“You make it sound like I’d love you and leave you or something.”

“I see how you lead Nickolas along,” Lance said. “I don’t want that.”

“I…is it someone else?” Justin said, roughly shoving Lance’s hand away.

“No!” Lance said immediately, though JC Chasez briefly crossed his mind. “No one else. No one in town can hold a candle to you,” Lance said truthfully. “I’m sorry.”

“Whatever.” Justin stood up. “You’ll regret this.”

“I’m sure I will,” Lance said, watching Justin stomp off.

 

“Damn,” Nickolas panted as Justin rolled off of him. Their bodies were sweaty and damp in the dim light of a candle. Justin had showed up at Nickolas’ home almost immediately after leaving Lance. “What’s gotten into you?”

“Nothing,” Justin snapped, then sighed. “Just…irritated.”

“Well, you come see me the next time you’re irritated. Jesus, Justin…you were like an animal,” Nickolas said in admiration. “I may not be walking right for a week.”

Justin finally smiled. “I…hope I didn’t hurt you.”

“Not in any way I didn’t enjoy,” Nickolas said. He reached up and touched Justin’s chin. Justin allowed the brief caress, then moved his head. 

“Lance Bass. Who does that weirdo think he is? He said no to me. Said NO to me.” Justin shook his head. “Told me I’m the best-looking man in town, then says no.”

“You are the best-looking man in town,” Nickolas agreed, but Justin ignored him.

“Said I see him as something to hunt…like a trophy. I don’t think so,” Justin said, but his tone was doubtful.

“Speaking of trophies…” Nick ran a hand up over Justin’s bicep. “I did some asking around about that manor house he mentioned.”

“Mmm?” Justin lay back and closed his eyes. Nick moved his hand to stroke over Justin’s chest. 

“There IS such a thing. A few of the men know about it. They said no one goes in there…or even near it, because of what’s guarding it.”

Justin opened one eye. “And just WHAT is guarding it?”

“A beast. That’s the rumor, anyway. Ten feet tall, claws like metal. Teeth sharp enough to tear a man in two. A few people have actually seen it, but not anyone that I talked to.”

“A beast, huh?” Justin slowly smiled. “If I could catch something like that…that would show Lance Bass that I’m someone special. He could not POSSIBLY say no to me then.”

“Well, it’s just a rumor,” Nickolas said unhappily. “I mean…”

“Thank you for that tidbit of information, Nickolas.” Justin leaned over and gave Nickolas a tender kiss. “I need to get home. Need a good night’s sleep. I have a beast to slay.”


	13. Chapter 13

WRITTEN IN THE STARS  
Thirteen

 

Lance was surprised to see Justin bouncing into the store as soon as it opened the next morning. “Justin!”

“Morning, Lance. Morning, Mr. Bass,” Justin said politely.

“Justin,” Jim said, shaking his head as he went to stock some shelves.

“You’re up early,” Lance said. He was a little nervous. He knew he had injured Justin’s pride, and Justin could be horribly spiteful when he wanted to.

“Yes. I have a lot to do today.” Justin rubbed his hands together. “I have a list…I’ll be spending a lot of money this morning.” He dug into his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper.

Lance took the page and scanned it. “Why don’t you get one of those crates by the door, and I’ll start getting everything together.”

“I’d better get two.” Justin easily picked up the two large wooden crates and put them on the floor by the counter.

Lance mumbled to himself as he gathered Justin’s items, digging through boxes and pawing through shelves. “All right. I think I have everything here…” Lance went behind the counter and started to tally Justin’s order. “Looks like quite the hunting party.”

“Yes. A few of the guys are coming out with me.” Justin leaned on the counter and smiled at Lance. “We’re off to slay a beast.”

The list fell to the floor. “A what?” Lance whispered.

“A beast. Nickolas heard of this monster that supposedly hunts at the other side of the woods. I have nothing to do today, work’s been light, so I’m going check it out. What do you think of THAT, Lance Bass?”

“I…I…” Lance’s brain scrambled desperately. There was only ONE beast Justin could be after. “Justin, you’re not doing this to impress me, are you? Really, it’s not necessary.” Feeling like an idiot, Lance put on his best simpering grin, trying to channel his inner Nickolas Carter. “I’m impressed with you already.”

“You didn’t act that way last night,” Justin grumbled, but he smiled a bit.

Lance put a hand on Justin’s arm. “Is it really necessary for you to go chase this thing down? I bet it doesn’t even exist.”

“Nickolas said someone has seen it, so I figure it’s real,” Justin contradicted. He put his hand over Lance’s. “I’ll bring you its head as a trophy.”

“Wonderful,” Lance said weakly. “Really, Justin, why don’t you just forget about this? We could do something later…maybe go for a walk or something?”

“I’d love to, but I need to do this first, Lance. I’m the best hunter in town, and I need to prove it.” Justin squeezed Lance’s hand, then brought it up to his mouth to kiss it. “I’m not coming back until I have the beast’s carcass in my wagon!” Justin tossed down some money and picked up one of the crates. He took it outside.

“Jesus,” Lance whispered. He hurried out after Justin. “Justin, is it really necessary? I mean, everyone here knows what a great hunter you are.”

“They call it a BEAST, Lance. How could I possibly resist?” Justin asked, going back in for the second crate.

Lance looked at the small group of men on horseback near Justin’s wagon. “I don’t believe this.”

“Why do YOU care, Lance?” Nickolas asked.

“Do you even HUNT, Nickolas?” Lance snapped back.

“I’m the one that told Justin about this,” Nickolas said proudly. “I’m going along.”

“Justin, please…” Lance pleaded as Justin came back out to his wagon.

“I’ll see you in a few hours, Lance.” Justin gave Lance a kiss on the cheek, then climbed up onto the seat.

Lance gave a faint wave as the hunting party moved out. If they went by the road, it would take them a while to get to the other side of the woods. He might have just enough time.

 

“Sir, please,” Christopher pleaded. “Some oatmeal. Some pancakes. Some stew. Eat SOMETHING.”

“I’m not hungry,” JC growled from his seat at the window.

“You’ve barely eaten in days,” Christopher said softly. “Do you…do you think Lance would want you to act like this?”

JC roared as he whirled around. “Do NOT mention his name in this house, do you understand me? Leave me alone.”

“Yes, sir.” Christopher started for the door. “Since you’re not giving him anything else to do, perhaps Brian could play chess with you.”

“OUT!” JC roared, and Christopher ran out into the hall, slamming the door behind him.

JC continued to moodily stare out the window. He had never felt such a sense of loss, even after the wizard had cursed him. Every room seemed empty without Lance in it. He’d never felt such emptiness. He knew it was the right thing to do, sending Lance home, but now he’d wished he’d never done it. For the twentieth time since he’d sent Lance away, JC wondered if the curse would be broken for the others if he himself died. 

JC sat up straighter as he saw a progression of horses and carts making their way up the dirt road at the edge of the woods. It was all men, and most of them carried guns. A hunting party. JC slowly stood up, watching the parade of men approach the castle. His staff wouldn’t be able to fight them unless they actually came up to the castle, so they would be safe. This would be perfect.

 

Lance broke through the trees and into the clearing at the edge of the castle. He had remembered his way without a second thought, though he hadn’t taken much care. Leaves were stuck in his hair, and his skin was scratched from his run through the woods. He ran to the house and banged on the front door, leaning on the wall as he tried to catch his breath.

The door slowly opened. Christopher’s brown eyes widened. “Lance? What the hell are you doing here?”

“Men…coming…Justin wants to hunt…” Lance gasped for breath.

“Jesus, man.” Christopher pulled Lance in the door. 

“Lance?” Joseph came running down the stairs. “What are you doing here?”

Lance took a few deep breaths. “I swear I didn’t tell anyone. He NEEDS to know I didn’t tell anyone!”

Christopher didn’t need to ask who Lance was speaking of. “What’s going on?”

“One of the young men in the village heard about a horrible monster that lived on the other side of the woods. Justin Timberlake has gathered a hunting party together to find him.” Lance looked miserable. “They’re here to kill JC.”

“What?” Joseph gasped.

“I need to warn him,” Lance said.

“Come on. He’s upstairs.” Christopher led the way up the stairs, taking them two at a time. He pounded on JC’s door. “Sir…sir, please, open up! It’s an emergency.” When there was no answer, Christopher opened the door. The suite of rooms was empty. “He was just here a few minutes ago!”

“Is there another way downstairs?” Lance asked.

“There’s a back stairwell. It goes down to the kitchen,” Christopher said, breaking into a run. Lance followed him down the dark staircase.

“Lance! Hello!” Brian said, beaming at him as they ran in to the kitchen.

“Did Mr. Chasez come through here?” Christopher demanded.

“Well, yes. He said he was going out for a walk…went out the back door,” Brian said. “I was a little surprised to see him use those stairs, but…”

“God, no,” Lance whispered. “If they find him. They CAN’T find him.”

“Perhaps he saw them and went to hide,” Christopher said. “But I doubt it. He’s been miserable since you left, Lance.”

“Really?” Lance stopped short. “Miserable?”

“Yes,” Christopher said. “God knows what frame of mind he’s in right now. He was never the most emotionally stable person as a human being.”

“We need to find him,” Lance said.

Just then someone pounded at the front door, ringing the bell. Christopher and Lance looked at each other. “What do I do?” Christopher asked.

“I’m not sure…stall them, I suppose,” Lance said.

Christopher took a few deep breaths and headed for the stairs. “What’s happening?” Brian cried behind them.

Christopher opened the large front door. “Good morning, young sir. How may I help you?”

“My name is Justin Timberlake. I come from a nearby village. I heard rumors of a large beast stalking the woods hear, and wanted to know if you’d seen anything.”

Christopher pretended to think for a moment. “We don’t often go off the grounds, and I’ve not seen anything around here. I’m terribly sorry.”

“Are you SURE?”

Lance hung back in the shadows, not wanting to chance Justin catching sight of him. He admired Christopher’s calm demeanor, the way he nonchalantly leaned in the doorway. “I think I’d remember seeing a large and hairy beast, sir. I’m sorry I can’t help you.”

“If you don’t mind, we’ll look around the edge of the grounds a bit,” Justin said. “There are only a few of us and we won’t…wait a second.” Justin eyed Christopher shrewdly, and Lance winced. “How did you know it’s a large and hairy beast if you’ve never seen it?”

Christopher remained calm. “Well, to live in this climate, he’d need a fairly heavy coat. And to be described as a beast, he’d have to be large.”

Justin looked confused. He said, “Well, we’re still going to look around.”

“Be my guest,” Christopher said with a polite smile. 

“Thank you.” Justin gave Christopher one more odd look and returned to his friends.

Lance peeked through a crack in the door. “Couldn’t you have told them to go?”

“Like THAT wouldn’t have been suspicious,” Christopher snapped back. He smiled and waved at the group of men. “They need to GO.”

Justin took three of the men, including Nick, and started to the west. “Timberlake!” Someone shouted. “LOOK!”

Justin whirled around. Lance couldn’t see what was coming, but by the look on the mens’ faces, he had a fairly good idea. “Oh, NO,” Lance whispered. Before he could stop himself, he was running out of the castle. Christopher and Joseph followed on his heels, stopped suddenly by the invisible barrier around the building. “Justin…” Lance yelled, but Justin ignored him.

“Jesus…Mary…and Joseph…” Justin gasped, staring at the creature slowly walking towards him. “They weren’t exaggerating!” He raised his bow.

“Please. Make it quick,” the creature said, standing still and bowing his head.

“It can talk!” Nickolas gasped.

“Master, no, please!” Christopher begged. “Don’t!”

“Justin, don’t do it!” Lance skidded to a stop in front of Justin. “Please!”

“Lance, what are you doing here?” Justin asked. Lance saw JC’s eyes widen.

“Justin, don’t. Please don’t. You don’t need to. I…I’ll do whatever you want,” Lance promised. “Anything at all. I’m all yours.”

“You’re Justin Timberlake?” JC asked softly. He looked from Lance to Justin. “I hear great things about you.”

“Lance, it’s all right. He wants me to kill him, although that takes some of the fun out of things.” Justin put up his bow again.

“Justin…”

“He’s just a stupid beast, Lance. He doesn’t even matter.” Justin took aim.

Anger flared in Lance. “He is NOT just a stupid beast!” He shoved Justin with all his might. The arrow flew, hitting JC just below the left shoulder. He let out a roar of pain and fell to the ground. “JC!” Lance gasped, running to JC’s side. He fell to his knees.

“NO!” Christopher wailed, desperately clawing and pushing at the invisible force that held him back.

“He…is the one?” JC gasped. “You were right…attractive.”

“Dammit, JC, why did you do that?” Lance whispered. He attempted to pull out the arrow, but it only made JC groan in pain. “You may own half the world, but you’re an idiot.”

JC reached up, his large hand cradling the side of Lance’s face. “I’m sorry…I just…got tired…of being alone…”

“But you WEREN’T alone,” Lance almost sobbed, his lips trembling. JC sighed, his hand caressing one more time before it fell to his side. Lance buried his face in the broad chest, tears streaming down his cheeks. His chest heaved as his sorrow morphed into anger. Anger at Justin, at his mother, at everyone who hated something they didn’t understand. “YOU’RE the monster!” Lance yelled, standing and whirling to face Justin. “YOU. All you care about is killing and using people. You’re one of the most selfish people I’ve ever met. How can you waste what God gave you? Your charm, your looks…you’re a bigger monster than he ever was!” Lance stomped over to Justin and before he knew it, he was landing a gorgeous right hook in Justin’s perfect jaw. “YOU’RE the beast!”

“Lance!” Nickolas gasped, hurrying over. Lance shoved him away, landing another punch in Justin’s side and sending him to the ground.

“You’re such a…Neanderthal!” Lance declared, raining punches on Justin, who could barely keep his arms up to cover his face.

“Lance…”

“Don’t try and stop me. I…”

“LANCE,” the voice said again.

“WHAT?” Lance yelled, spinning back around. He almost lost his balance as he stared at the man on the ground.


	14. Chapter 14

WRITTEN IN THE STARS  
Fourteen

Lance’s mouth fell open. A tall young man, maybe three or four years older than he, lay on the ground, panting for breath. He wore only a pair of ragged pants. His slender chest was bare and pale, marred only by a bruise below his left shoulder. His face was thin and framed by wavy brown hair. “Who…who are you?” Lance whispered. “What…where’s JC?”

“Master!” Christopher yelled, suddenly falling forward onto his hands and knees. He looked up and realized that he had moved outside the protective zone around the castle. “Mr. Chasez!” Christopher got up and ran over. He fell to the ground next to the young man. “Are you all right?”

“Christopher?” The young man sat up, with Christopher’s assistance. He stared at his hand as it sat on Christopher’s arm. “I…”

“You’re back, sir.” Christopher smiled through his tears.

“I…I’m not sure why…how…” JC looked at Lance. “I can’t believe it. I’m free.”

“I think you know why,” Christopher whispered.

JC ran a hand over his own hair, then down his chest. “Amazing,” JC whispered.

“Mr. Chasez!” Joseph came running over. “It’s so good…I can’t believe…”

“Joseph.” JC reached a hand out and Joseph took it. “I know…I…” JC stammered. He finally smiled and squeezed Joseph’s hand. “Go. I’m fine. Get the others and tell them to go home. I don’t want to see anyone back here in for at least a week.”

“Are you sure?” Joseph asked doubtfully. JC nodded and smiled.

“I’m a grown man. If I can live for years as a monstrous beast, I can make myself a sandwich or something.”

“Sir.” Christopher clasped the man’s hand in his. “I’ll be back in a few days, I promise.”

“GO,” the man ordered as strongly as he could.

Christopher looked at Lance. “I owe you that ale,” he said. He grabbed Lance by the ears, kissed his head, and went running back to the castle, yelling all the way. Joseph stared at everyone for a moment, then went darting off in the other direction, heading for the woods.

The man looked up at Lance. “Help me up, Lance, please?” Lance helped the man to his feet. He wobbled a bit, then got his balance. “I feel so light,” the man said in wonder.

“Who ARE you?” Lance asked as the man leaned on him a bit.

“Don’t you know me, Lance?” The man asked almost sadly.

Lance looked into the man’s bright blue eyes. He KNEW those eyes. “It’s really you? You’re…JC Chasez?”

“Yes,” the man said, smiling. “I am.”

The other men started mumbling to each other. “JC Chasez…heard he disappeared…richest man in the land…”

“Wait a minute.” Nickolas Carter left Justin’s side and approached Lance. “What’s going on?”

“Well…” Lance began.

“Look at what you did to Justin, you freak!” Nickolas almost yelled. “I don’t know what…”

“Excuse me.” JC brought himself up to his full height and looked down his nose at Nickolas. “First of all, this is my home, and my property. You all are trespassing. I’d appreciate it if you’d leave. Secondly…if I ever hear you call Lance anything like that EVER again, you will pay. Am I clear?” Nickolas gaped at him and nodded. “Now. Please go.” JC turned to Lance. “Help me inside?” Lance nodded and helped JC across the lawn.

“He…he was a monster,” Justin said weakly. “You saw that, Nickolas, right? You saw it?”

“We all did,” Nickolas said soothingly. “Why don’t you climb up into the wagon, Justin? I’ll get you home and take care of you.”

“A monster…turned into a man…” Justin babbled as he allowed Nickolas to help him into the wagon.

 

When JC and Lance entered the castle, they were met with complete silence. “Well, I guess they obeyed my order,” JC said with a shy smile. “The staff went home.” He sighed. “As they should. It was my awful behavior that kept them here.”

“You should sit down,” Lance suggested. “I’m sure you’re…” Lance’s eyes widened as he looked at the spot where the arrow had entered the beast’s skin. “You’re…healed.”

“The beast’s body was a big stronger than mine…I’m sore, but I don’t believe there was any damage.” JC poked at his shoulder. “Actually…I’d really like a bath.”

“Well…” Lance thought for a moment.

“Don’t worry. I have the rest of my life to get a bath. I would like to sponge off with some warm water, though…why don’t we go to the kitchen? No one’s here, I’m sure.” JC looked uncertain. “Uh, unless you would rather go home. I could use your help, but…”

“No.” Lance was touched by the shy amazement in JC’s eyes as he looked around. “I’ll stay and help you. Whatever you need.”

“Let’s go upstairs and see if I have some of my old clothing. I guess the leftover magic is the only thing keeping these on.” He tugged at his ragged pants. 

Lance helped JC up the stairs. He still seemed weak, which was understandable. JC walked slowly, taking everything in. They entered his suite and he stopped just inside the door. “Maybe…over there?” Lance timidly pointed at a wardrobe in the corner, one of the few things JC hadn’t damaged or destroyed.

“Well. Guess I’ll be redecorating,” JC said with an embarrassed smile. He sighed. 

“I’m sure it was very difficult for you,” Lance said loyally. “Frustrating when you couldn’t do what you wanted.”

“You cannot even begin to imagine,” JC almost snapped. “I…I’m sorry, Lance.”

“People don’t change overnight,” Lance told him. “And you’re allowed to be a little off emotionally…look what’s happened to you.”

“Well, I…” JC started walking toward the wardrobe, then froze as he approached a tall mirror. The bottom half was cracked, but he could see himself clearly in the top. “Oh, my God…” JC whispered, reaching up to touch his face. “I’m really…me.” He stared at himself.

“Why don’t I go down to the kitchen and get you something to eat?” Lance suggested. “You can change clothes.”

“Thank you, Lance,” JC said, finally looking away from the mirror. Lance blushed, nodded, and left the room.

Lance busied himself digging through cupboards in the kitchen, finding some fruit and cheese and putting it on the plate. He heard JC clear his throat. JC stood in the doorway, wearing a pair of black pants and a pink shirt. The clothing was obviously expensive, and looked more suitable for a royal drawing room than a kitchen. “Feeling better?” Lance asked, trying not to notice how pale and smooth the pink shirt made JC’s skin look.

“What would really make me feel better is a bath,” JC said. “But I’m not sure how… I mean…getting the water and…” JC actually looked embarrassed.

“You’re used to being waited on, JC. It’s fine. I’m sure we can do something here…” Lance looked around. “I don’t know where they keep the tubs or anything, but we could heat up some water, let you at least wipe yourself off.”

“That sounds fantastic. But for right now…I’m starving.” JC sat down at the table. “You can heat up the water.” Lance raised an eyebrow. “I mean…could you? Get some water heating?”

“Of course,” Lance said. He took some kettles to the pump and filled them, then hung them over the fire. He found a large tub under a table and dragged it out.

JC picked up a fork and twirled it in his fingers. “This will be like learning how to do everything all over again.” His lip trembled as he stabbed a piece of cheese. “I took so much for granted. I was so awful, Lance.”

“You didn’t seem so bad to me,” Lance said softly. 

JC looked into his eyes. “That’s because of you,” JC whispered. “You know that this is all…”

“Well…I bet the water’s warm now,” Lance interrupted. “Eat up, so you can take your bath.”

“Lance.” JC grabbed Lance’s wrist. “Look at me.” Lance obeyed. “Do I still frighten you? Make you nervous?”

“I knew that deep inside you were a real man,” Lance said. “But now that the man is in front of me…I’m not sure what to think.”

“Your true feelings for me, your concern…that’s what saved me.” JC took both of Lance’s hands in his. “I can never thank you enough. You saved me.”

“I…you’re welcome,” Lance said weakly. JC was truly the most beautiful man Lance had ever seen. His hair was soft and curled around his handsome face. His eyes, still the most incredible blue, softened as they looked at Lance. JC’s strong hands brought Lance’s fingers up to his mouth, and he gently kissed each hand. It felt NOTHING like the way Justin had kissed his hands. Lance actually felt his knees go weak.

JC finally released Lance’s hands and picked up the knife and fork. He cut the food into very small portions, smaller than was necessary. Lance knew JC was doing it just because he could.

Lance sat down. “What are you going to do now?”

“Well, I…I’m not sure,” JC said. “Part of me wants to travel, just because I haven’t for so long. I loved going new places. Part of me wants to stay here and enjoy having my life back. I also have some work to do around here. 

“Will you continue with your art? Your music?” Lance asked. “You’re talented, JC.”

“We’ll see,” JC said. He quickly finished off the food and stood. “The water’s ready?” Lance nodded. JC removed his shirt and neatly folded it over the back of his chair. He stood with his head over the tub, and Lance carefully poured some water down through his hair. “That feels so good,” JC moaned. Lance found a neatly stacked pile of washing in the corner, and grabbed some towels. He handed one to JC, who rubbed it through his hair. JC then took another towel, wet it, and began to scrub at his arms and chest. 

Lance tried not to stare as JC slowly moved his hands over his own body, seeming to learn how it moved and felt. JC was tall and slender, but muscular. His skin looked soft, and Lance swallowed hard as he watched the graceful hands slide over the smooth skin. Lance turned away, picking up JC’s plate and utensils and putting them in the washbasin. “I’ll…I’ll help you with anything else you need, and then I’ll go.”

“What?” JC gasped. Lance turned around. “But I…I thought…you don’t…you want to go?”

“Well…I’m sure you have a lot on your mind, and there’s things you need to do.”

“You’d leave me alone?” JC said unhappily. “I don’t have anyone here to wait on me.”

“Really?” Lance said frowning. 

“I just need someone here…until the others get back. Couldn’t you stay? I mean, I just came back from the dead, pretty much.”

Lance watched a droplet of water slide down JC’s chest. “I…could stay. For a few days.”

“Wonderful.” JC turned away from Lance, unable to keep the triumphant smile from his face.


	15. Chapter 15

WRITTEN IN THE STARS  
Fifteen

Once JC was dried off and dressed, Lance said, “Well, uh, what would you like to do now?”

“I think…I think you’re right. I do need a bit of time on my own. Do you mind?”

“No. Of course not. I’ll probably look around in here a bit, see what we can come up with for dinner. Since you pretty much dismissed your staff and all,” Lance said with a tiny smile.

“You…you can cook?”

Lance’s smile grew at the shock on JC’s face. “Yes. Well, at least enough not to starve. My mother taught me the basics…sometimes she goes to visit family, and Father and I are left on our own.”

“Amazing. Well, I expect a delicious dinner, then,” JC announced. Lance rolled his eyes. 

“Go. I will find you later.”

Once JC walked out of the room, Lance sighed and started going through the cupboards again. He was still completely lost as to what was going on. Obviously something had happened to bring JC back to his human form. From what Christopher had told him, it needed to be the love of someone new…someone who saw the beauty inside of JC and not the beast on the outside. But Lance didn’t LOVE him. He didn’t even KNOW him. He just knew that JC wasn’t truly a beast. He deserved to live. 

It was true that JC could be completely charming when he wanted to be. He was very intelligent, smarter than Lance had expected. Lance got the feeling JC was not given the opportunity to broaden his mind the way Lance had. And JC was so talented. Lance hoped he’d get the chance to hear JC sing before he returned home. 

But love? Lance didn’t LOVE him. And he knew that no matter how nice JC was trying to be, he still felt himself miles above Lance in station and wealth. Lance had done JC a favor, JC was being nice to him. JC was also currently using him as a servant. Lance would stay and help out for a bit, and then he’d return home.

“Excuse me.” A voice at the door made Lance jump. “I’m sorry, but where is everyone?” A young man stood in the doorway of the kitchen.

“They, uh…had to return home,” Lance said lamely.

“So it’s true, then? Mr. Chasez has returned?” The boy asked. Lance nodded. “I’m the messenger boy…I do deliveries and such. Should I assume that my services are no longer needed, then?”

“Well, I can’t make that decision for you, so I’d wait a few days and see. I’m sure Mr. Chasez will still need you to make deliveries and such in the absence of the staff.” Lance thought for a moment. “Can you just bring the basics, like what you would normally bring for the day? Perhaps cut in half…since there aren’t many people here right now.”

“I can do that,” the boy said, nodding.

“Oh…wait. Can you run a message for me? To my town? I need to let my parents know I’m all right, and I’d rather not leave.” 

“Of course,” the boy said with a beaming smile. “Always nice to go someplace new. I have paper and a pencil.” The boy handed over a wrinkled piece of paper.

“Thank you.” Lance didn’t want his parents to worry again, and he wasn’t sure how long he’d be gone. “Father and Mother…please know that I’m fine. I’m not hurt in any way. I need to help a friend. I will be home in a few days. Your loving son, Lance.” Lance folded the paper, and wrote the name of his village and his parents’ store. “I really appreciate this.”

“You’re welcome.” The boy tipped his hat to Lance and disappeared.

Lance found some fresh meat and vegetables that he could make a stew out of, and pulled them out for dinner. He washed his hands and wandered back upstairs. It seemed so odd, being in the completely empty castle. He decided to go back to his old standby and headed for the library. He chose a few books, and went out into the back garden. After choosing a spot that was equally sun and shade, Lance buried himself in his book.

 

JC found himself back in his suite of rooms. He sighed as he realized the amount of damage he’d done to the rooms. At least money was no object. And this time, he’d decorate it the way HE wanted. Perhaps he’d even move the piano up into the suite. Perhaps he’d redecorate other rooms as well. It was HIS castle now, not his parents’. His years as a monster had definitely taught him one thing: no one was responsible for his actions except for him. He was an adult, expected to make his own decision. If he wanted to be treated with respect, he needed to treat others with respect as well.

JC couldn’t help but wish for Christopher’s presence, especially now at this confusing time in his life. Even on JC’s worst days as a beast, Christopher had been kind and patient and amusing, even though JC was sure Christopher had probably talked particularly nasty about him once he’d left the room. He’d never bothered to get to know Christopher, or any of his staff, for that matter. He knew Joseph and Brian were married with families, but he’d never asked Christopher anything about his personal life. He made a mental note to do that when Christopher returned. They may not have been on equal social footing, but Christopher had been the closest thing JC had to a friend for years.

He also wished Christopher was there to take notes for him. JC had a lot of ideas for changes to the castle, now that he was thinking about it. He would make it something beautiful, full of art and light, not the stony tomb it seemed to be now. JC looked out the window, catching sight of Lance in the garden. The sun was dancing through Lance’s light hair, and JC sighed again. Lance had no idea how beautiful he was. JC knew how different they were. They were raised differently, lived in different worlds. But Lance was already bringing out the best in him. It had angered him to no end when Lance had ignored him every time he yelled or ordered him around, but now JC knew it was what had started the change inside of him. He owed Lance everything.

 

“Perhaps we could just move your bed into the library,” a voice said, and Lance jumped.

“I’m sorry.” Lance carefully marked his place and started to stand up.

“Don’t.” JC flopped down next to him. “You look so comfortable.”

“I am,” Lance admitted. “Your home is beautiful.”

“It will be,” JC said. “I’m having some ideas. I thought you could take notes for me as I walked around, about things I want to change.”

“Oh, you did?” Lance said, raising an eyebrow.

JC rolled his eyes. “Are you going to do this EVERY time I ask you to do something?”

“Not if you ASK me. As we’ve gone over about twenty times already, I am NOT a member of your staff. I’m also not your prisoner any longer.” Lance frowned.

“I could keep you here, if I really wanted to,” JC said softly, leaning on one hand.

Lance swallowed deeply as JC’s beautiful blue eyes ran over his body. “That’s worked for you in the past, has it?”

JC smirked. “Every time.”

“Well, you forget something. I have no clue what I’m missing if I say no to you, so, well, no.”

JC rolled onto his back and howled with laughter. “Oh, Lance…you are something else.”

Lance had to smile at the surprising giggles that burst from the beautiful man in front of him. “I try,” he said modestly, and JC giggled again. “You forget…I have practice saying no to Justin Timberlake.”

“Ah, yes. The mighty hunter,” JC said when he finally contained himself. “You’re right. He was quite attractive. Well-built, handsome face. And those curls.”

“Yes,” Lance said, frowning again. He didn’t like the fact that JC had noticed all of that about Justin, although it was blatantly obvious to anyone who saw him.

“Of course, there’s also the part where he tried to kill me. I mean, that works against the good looks and charm,” JC said, and Lance smiled.

“Definitely.”

“So. Back to the original topic. Could you PLEASE help me by walking with me and taking notes? I can write and everything, but my mind races when I’m excited about something, and I tend to get a little…overexcited.”

Lance looked at him in surprise. “You’re so composed. I find that hard to believe.”

“Well, you’ve not seen me excited about much,” JC gently reminded him. He closed his eyes and sighed. “The sun on my face…I cannot explain to you how good it feels.” JC lay still for a moment. “Imagine the best thing in your life. The thing you love most.”

“Reading,” Lance said immediately.

“Now suddenly, your eyesight is gone. You’re completely blind. Someone can read to you, so it’s there, technically, but you’ll never feel it the way you used to.”

“That would be horrible,” Lance whispered. “How awful for you.”

“I appreciate your pity, Lance, but remember that I brought this on myself.”

“You don’t seem so bad,” Lance said.

“I was horrible.” JC rolled onto his stomach, placing his chin on his folded hands. “Very few people were good enough for me. I used people however I could. I hope that now I appreciate things more, what people have done for me. People like Brian and Joseph, especially Christopher. And you.” Lance blushed. “But I was raised to believe I was different.”

“You are different,” Lance said before he thought. “Just not necessarily better.”

JC studied him for a long moment. “I believe you’re right.”


	16. Chapter 16

WRITTEN IN THE STARS  
Sixteen

JC and Lance spent the rest of the day lounging around and talking. Lance asked JC to describe some of the places he’d seen on his travels, and JC needed no further urging to talk about the beautiful palaces, museums and concert halls he’d seen. As JC spoke, however, Lance started to feel more and more uncomfortable. It was like JC had lived on a different planet.

“It just sounds so magical,” Lance sighed, rudely putting his elbows on the table and resting his chin in one hand. He stared into space. “Almost like going to the moon.”

JC put down his spoon. Lance had made a stew that was surprisingly good, in JC’s opinion. He’d watched Lance chop vegetables and devise a broth, enviously staring at the way Lance easily moved around the kitchen. Lately, JC was feeling quite useless. “You won’t think that once we’re there.”

Lance’s mouth fell open, then he laughed. “Where? The moon?”

“No. Paris. Vienna. Or maybe Athens. You know, I’ve never been to Athens. We could go. Just imagine all the history and science there. You’d have a field day. I’d love to see you wandering around the ruins.” JC smiled at Lance, who didn’t smile back.

Lance pushed his chair back. “That’s not funny.”

“What? What did I do this time?”

“Don’t do that, JC. Don’t just dangle your amazing life in front of me like a treat, and then swipe it away. You’d never travel with me.”

“Lance!” JC was genuinely astonished. “I wasn’t teasing you. I meant it. You deserve to see the world. I can do that for you.”

“How generous of you,” Lance snapped. JC stared at him, wide-eyed. “I’m not here so you can condescend to me, bestow gifts on me like some generous benefactor from a novel. I know I’m beneath you. I know nothing of your world, as you’ve pointed out.”

“If I acted condescending towards you, Lance, I apologize. I never meant to,” JC said honestly. 

“I’m used to people amusing themselves at my expense, JC, but it doesn’t mean I like it. Never mind.” Lance stood up. “Leave everything. I’ll clean it up tomorrow morning. I’m going to bed. Good night.”

“Lance!” JC called, but Lance darted out of the room. JC looked at their dishes, then looked over at the large basin. He could do this.

 

Lance stomped up to his room, and slammed the door. He wasn’t sure WHAT had come over him, but the idea of traveling with JC had caused butterflies to dance in his stomach. It was so…unbelievable. Lance wasn’t sure what he was feeling for JC. Obviously, he had some sort of feelings for him, or JC wouldn’t have turned back into a human. JC was funny and smart, and of course very attractive, but Lance kept waiting for the other shoe to fall. He was convinced that JC was just using him until the rest of the staff returned. No one could change their colors overnight. But JC was just so…interested. He really paid attention when Lance talked, like no one else ever had. He even listened when Lance went on and on about outer space. JC had gotten so animated when describing the places he’d been. It made Lance yearn to be there. But he knew he was not someone JC could be interested in. He probably wanted Lance to come along as his valet, or something.

He couldn’t allow himself to fall in love with JC Chasez. He just couldn’t.

 

JC looked down at himself in dismay. The dishes were scrubbed clean, stacked nicely on the drying board, but it seemed that every drop of water from the basin had ended up on JC’s nice pink shirt. “I shouldn’t be washing dishes,” he growled to himself, then sighed. No one else was there to do it, and he owed it to Lance to at least clean up a bit. 

JC wiped at his shirt with a towel, then decided to go upstairs and change. He lit one of the candles and brought it along, lighting candelabras along the way. He quickly pulled on a dry shirt, then went back downstairs. He stared at the other staircase for a moment, then slowly walked up to the west wing. He paused outside Lance’s closed door, then knocked on it. After a moment of silence, JC called out, “I’m sorry, Lance. I’m not quite sure what I’ve done to offend you, but I do apologize. We’re friends…friends forgive each other, correct?” JC leaned his head on the door for a moment, then went back downstairs. 

JC planned on going to the library, but something stopped him in front of a closed door. He moved down the hall, grabbed one of the candelabras, and slowly opened the door to the music room.

 

“Friends forgive each other, correct?”

Lance groaned and buried his head in the pillow. Of COURSE they forgave each other. He was acting like an idiot. This wasn’t what JC needed. Lance was supposed to be an example of how to be a decent person, not a prideful fool. Lance rolled over and stared at the ceiling for a few minutes, then got up. He took a candle and opened his door. Lance blew the candle out, surprised to see all the candles in his hallway already lit. 

Lance started down the stairs, freezing about halfway when he heard music. He tiptoed the rest of the way, hovering in the doorway of the music room. From what he could see, the room was gorgeous. It was decorated in golds and greens, with chaise lounges, sofas and chairs positioned around the room. In one corner was a harp, and in the other was a beautiful piano. JC sat at the piano, his dark curly hair bobbing as his hands moved over the keyboard. Lance quietly sighed, leaning against the doorframe.

 

JC had hesitated before sitting at the piano. He wiped the dust from the keys, then flexed his fingers a bit. He winced as he played a few notes; the instrument was horribly out of tune. He ignored that, however, and began to play a simple aria from an opera he loved. He felt a bit rusty, then muscle memory took over, and his fingers flew over the keys. JC moved from one song to the next, eyes closed, allowing the music to flow over him. He knew now that one of the biggest mistakes he’d ever made was to allow his parents to take this away from him. No wonder he’d turned into such a monster.

After he finished the third melody, JC was startled to hear quiet applause behind him. He turned around to see Lance standing in the doorway. “You are very talented. All the rumors are true.”

“Rumors?” JC asked, blushing slightly. He reached up and touched his own face. It had been a long time since he’d felt his skin heat up in that manner.

“About JC Chasez,” Lance said, moving into the room and sitting down next to JC on the bench. “I knew your name long before I met you. The elusive and beautiful JC Chasez. Wealthy, handsome, and very talented. I guess enough people saw you sing and play in drawing rooms that word got around.”

“Elusive.” JC shook his head. “Just another word for arrogant.”

Lance put his hands on the keys and began to pick out a simple melody, one he’d learned in childhood. JC smiled and began to play a countermelody. “Well, it’s all you knew. It wasn’t all your fault.” JC snorted and said nothing. “I’m sorry for acting the way I did. You didn’t do anything wrong, and I overreacted. I apologize.”

“Well…I accept your apology,” JC said, almost stumbling over the words.

Lance smiled. “I suppose you haven’t accepted many apologies?”

“People apologized to me all the time,” JC said, his fingers aimlessly wandering up the keys and down again in perfect scales. “They were sorry for getting in my way, or not doing what I asked, or not getting things when I asked for them. Apologies were never good enough.” JC sighed and stopped playing.

“Well, then I feel special,” Lance said.

JC turned to look at him, his blue eyes sparkling in the candlelight. “You are special,” JC whispered.

Lance looked down at his hands, which were trembling. He stood, almost tripping over the piano bench. “I’ll leave you to your music. I just wanted to apologize. I don’t like going to sleep with my anger. It doesn’t make waking up any easier.” 

“Lance,” JC said, but Lance headed for the door. 

“I hope…I hope you’ll sing for me sometime,” Lance said shyly, and darted out the door before JC could respond.

 

“You’re an idiot!”

“You’re a fool!”

“You’re an idiot who cannot accept that they lost!”

“You’re a fool who most likely cheated somehow.”

“Oh, really? Well, I think you are so used to people kissing your backside that you’ve never learned how to lose gracefully!”

“I NEVER lose. One way or another, I always win.”

“Oh, is this where you overturn the table and stalk off to pout? I thought you weren’t a monster anymore, Mr. Chasez.”

Christopher, who had searched the castle and found it empty, had wandered outside in search of his master. He hear the argument, paused for a moment, then broke off into a run. He’d spent three days away from the castle, spending time with his mother and sisters, as well as a few of the wenches at the tavern. He’d meant to stay away longer, but his mind kept returning to his master, wondering if he was all right, how he was eating, if he was still human. He should have known that Lance would have stayed to keep an eye on him…but at that moment, it didn’t sound like the two men were getting along at all.

Christopher tore around the corner of the castle and skidded to a stop. Lance and JC were in the garden, a small table between them. The chessboard sat on the table, with only black pieces left. Both men were standing and glaring at each other, leaning across the table. The corners of JC’s mouth finally twitched, and he actually began to giggle. “I do NOT pout.”

“I’m sure you’re very good at pouting,” Lance said, grinning back.

“You played well.” JC gave Lance a small bow. “You’ve learned a lot from me.”

“The only thing I’ve learned from you is how to attempt to distract your opponent,” Lance contradicted. He looked over JC’s shoulder and did a double-take. “Christopher!”

JC whirled around, almost knocking the table over. “Christopher! Good to see you!”

“I…sir.” Christopher bowed.

“I didn’t expect you so soon,” JC said.

“Well, I was worried about you, but it looks like everything is under control here,” Christopher said, looking at Lance.

“I don’t think he’ll ever be under control,” Lance teased, and JC gave him a dirty look.

“It will be nice to have someone here to run things, but if you wish to return home, I understand,” JC said. 

“No…it’s fine. I can visit now. I saw Joseph and Brian…they’ll be here in the next few days. I’m sure everyone else will trickle back as well,” Christopher said. He was still stunned at the way Lance and JC were bickering with one another, as if they’d been friends for years. “What can I do for you?”

“A bath,” JC said, sighing with delight. “Lance has tried to help me, but it’s just not the same.”

“You…you BATHED him?” Christopher gasped.

Lance turned beet red. “GOD, no! I helped get the tub, and the water, but I didn’t…I couldn’t…” Lance swallowed hard. “I’m going inside. Nice to see you again, Christopher.” Lance almost ran back into the castle.

JC chuckled at Lance’s embarrassment. “He’s adorable,” he said almost to himself as he began to pack up the chess pieces.

“So…things are going well with the two of you? When is he moving in?” Christopher asked, helping pack things up.

JC dropped everything in his hands. “Moving in? He…he can’t…I mean, we haven’t…” JC stammered.

“Wait a moment, sir.” Christopher put his hand on JC’s arm. “You two…you haven’t…uh…talked about your feelings?”

“I don’t think he has feelings for me, Christopher,” JC confided. “He’s acted friendly, but nothing more. I believe it was some strange mistake that broke the curse and…”

“Pardon me for interrupting, sir, but I think you’re wrong,” Christopher said gently. “That magic was incredibly strong. I don’t think the wizard allowed any loopholes. Someone had to love you for the person you were inside. For your inner beauty. Lance saw it, and he cares about you.”

“He doesn’t act like it,” JC muttered.

“Sir, he’s not as…experienced…as you are,” Christopher said evasively. “And have you said anything to him?”

“I’ve tried. I’ve flirted, acted coy…”

“He doesn’t know anything about all that, sir,” Christopher said, though he wondered how Lance could possibly be so clueless. He’d seen his master in action, and knew how charming he could be. “Perhaps…he thinks you couldn’t possibly care for him.”

“I’ve not always acted like it,” JC agreed. “And we are so different. He thinks I condescend to him.”

“You have in the past,” Christopher pointed out, and JC gave him a sharp look.

“Well.” JC seemed to think for a moment. “I’ll just have to let him know how I feel, then.”

“How do you feel, sir, if you don’t mind me asking?” Christopher took a chance, hoping his employer wouldn’t get angry at the imposition.

“He’s a wonderful person. Smart, witty, attractive. I…”

“You don’t have to say anything else, sir,” Christopher told him. “It’s written all over your face.”


	17. Chapter 17

WRITTEN IN THE STARS  
Seventeen

The next morning, a knock at his door surprised Lance out of a deep sleep. He was even more surprised when he saw Joseph and Christopher on the other side of the door. “Uh, good morning?” Lance said, yawning.

“Good morning, Lance.” Christopher could not keep a beaming smile off of his face. “I’m here to offer an invitation to dinner. Mr. Chasez has asked that you please join him at seven.”

“Christopher…that is TWELVE hours from now,” Lance snapped. “WHY are you here? And why are YOU here?” Lance pointed at Joseph.

“Oh, I’m just here for today,” Joseph said with a sly grin. “Mr. Chasez has asked some of the staff to come back for the day. To help out.”

“With what?” Lance asked.

“Dinner,” Christopher said, and looked like the cat that swallowed the canary.

“WHAT is going on?” Lance asked. Joseph and Christopher looked at each other.

“Dinner,” Joseph said, trying to look innocent and failing entirely. “We just thought you should know.”

“Oh…Edward and Jacob will be bringing a tub up later for a bath,” Christopher said as an afterthought. “After lunch. Make sure you’re back in your room. I’m sure a hot bath will feel good.”

“A bath?” Lance was utterly lost. 

“Oh. One more thing.” Joseph nudged Christopher. 

“Oh, yes.” Christopher held out his hands. “For tonight.”

“Um…all right.” Lance took the pile of clothes from Christopher.

“See you later.” Christopher winked and smiled. Joseph smiled as well, and the two men went back down the hall towards the stairs.

“Just when I think nothing can get weirder in this house…” Lance muttered to himself. He went back to the bed, and unfolded the clothes. He gasped at the beautiful green silk shirt and black pants. The shirt was gorgeous, with simple gold embroidery around the buttons and collar. He went over to the mirror, holding the shirt up in front of himself. It made his eyes seem to glow. He blushed and put the shirt back on the bed. After staring at the clothes for a long moment, he went to the basin to wash his face and hands before getting dressed in his regular clothes.

 

“So, you made sure to tell him that I INVITED him, right?” JC said for the sixth time as Chris helped him dress two hours later.

“Yes, sir,” Christopher said, rolling his eyes.

“I saw that,” JC snapped, and Christopher rolled them again. Christopher buttoned the shirt and stepped back, brushing some lint from the shoulders. “And he said he’d be there, I mean, he seemed interested?”

“Well, sir, I woke him from a sound sleep,” Christopher pointed out. “I’m fairly certain he would have agreed to anything to get me to leave.” JC frowned. “I’m teasing you, sir. I’m sure he’s interested. We said enough to intrigue him, and the clothes…I’m sure he’s very curious.”

“Those are beautiful, aren’t they?” JC said. “I do love beautiful clothes. And it was just perfect that we had something in his size.”

“Begging your pardon, sir, I never could quite understand how the wealthy could just throw their clothes around like that,” Christopher said. “After one of your house parties, we’d have enough shirts and coats left to outfit an entire town.”

“We like new clothes,” JC said absently, studying himself in the mirror. “You don’t want to be seen in the same thing twice.”

Christopher snorted and rolled his eyes again. “If you say so, sir.”

 

When Lance came downstairs after his rude awakening by Christopher and Joseph, he was surprised to see a skeleton crew of staff hurrying around on the first floor. They greeted him politely, but gave him no information. He continued to be confused.

“Lance!” Brian exclaimed almost unhappily when Lance appeared in the kitchen. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m living here,” Lance said slowly. “Remember?”

“No. I mean here. In the kitchen. Can you please go back upstairs? I’m busy…I’ll send Christopher up with some breakfast for you shortly, all right?” Brian stood directly in front of Lance, blocking his view of the stove and fireplace. 

“But I…”

“PLEASE, Lance?” Brian all but begged, giving Lance a gentle shove.

Lance sighed. “Fine. This is worse than one of my espionage novels…such mystery.”

“Right. Mystery. Exactly.” Brian nodded and pushed Lance towards the stairs. 

Lance plodded back up the steps, wondering what to do next. He figured JC wasn’t even up yet; he was still enough of a beast that he HATED being awakened. Lance went to the library, randomly grabbed a book and headed to the dining room. The room seemed quite large when he was in it alone, but he needed a change of scene. He looked around to confirm he was indeed alone, then sat down in JC’s chair at the head of the table. He squirmed around a bit, grinning self-consciously. He felt like a child sitting at the adult table for dinner. The chair was comfortable, of course, and lined with the most beautiful silks. Lance squirmed a bit more, put his knees over the arm, and curled up to read.

 

“I’m telling you, I don’t KNOW where he went,” Brian said, exasperated. “I just wanted him out of my kitchen. Sort of like I want YOU out of my kitchen.” He shoved the tray of tea and fruit into Christopher’s stomach. “Go FIND him.”

“You’re a bear in the morning,” Christopher observed. “Almost worse than Mr. Chasez.”

“Doubtful,” Joseph said as he munched on an apple.

“Both of you. GO! If I’m supposed to create a dream dinner out of thin air, I need to concentrate.” Brian went back to the stove and continued to grumble to himself.

“C’mon, Christopher. I don’t need another steak in the face like the LAST time we teased him while he was cooking.” Joseph got up from his seat. “I’ll help you find Lance.”

“You deserved that steak to the face!” Brian called after them.

“I checked his room, the library, even outside. I don’t know where he is, and I have better things to do than wander around the castle,” Christopher whined.

“Shh!” Joseph said suddenly, grabbing Christopher by the shoulder. “Look!”

JC was standing in the doorway of the dining room, peeking through the barely open door. He sighed a bit, leaning his head on the arm resting against the doorframe. “I think we know where Lance is,” Christopher whispered, grinning.

“If Lance doesn’t say yes…I think we may have a human beast on our hands,” Joseph murmured.

“Lance will say yes,” Christopher promised. He quietly cleared his throat, and JC jumped. “Sir,” Christopher said in his most respectful voice.

“Christopher.” JC stood up straight, walked away from the door and nodded regally. “Joseph.”

“Good morning, sir.” Joseph bowed politely. JC adjusted his shirt and quickly walked away. 

Christopher and Joseph grinned at each other. Christopher nudged the dining room door open. “Ah, Lance! Here you are. I have your breakfast.”

 

“Come in,” Lance called when someone knocked on the door. “Oh, Christopher. Hello.”

“You look amazing,” Christopher said, staring at Lance.

Lance stood in front of his mirror, turning this way and that. He’d enjoyed a luxurious hot bath at the hands of two stewards, and they’d helped him dress in the clothes provided that morning. The green brought out his eyes and the paleness of his skin, and he fidgeted nervously in the fancy clothing. “Are you sure?” He asked softly.

“Lance, I wouldn’t lie to you.” Christopher came over and began to do some unnecessary tugging and adjusting. “You will take his breath away.”

“I…hope he likes it,” Lance said shyly, blushing. 

“I’m sorry I couldn’t be here earlier, to help you, but I have to wait on him first. And we know how he hates to be ignored,” Christopher continued, rolling his eyes to make Lance smile.

“He’s your master,” Lance said. “You should take care of him first.”

“I think I’d enjoy it if you were my master as well,” Christopher said. 

Lance met Christopher’s gaze in the mirror, completely understanding his words. “Well…I…wouldn’t know anything about being anyone’s master. And I consider you my friend.”

“I think JC could very easily give you pointers on bossing people around,” Christopher pointed out. “And no matter what, I’m your friend.” Christopher stepped back. “There. Perfect.” The clock chimed seven, and Lance took a ragged breath. “You’ll be fine,” Christopher told him. “He’s still the same person. Just fancied up a bit, with a really nice dinner in front of him.”

“All right.” Lance took another deep breath and left the room.

When Lance reached the dining room, JC was already there, pacing by the table. He wore an expensive suit of dark blue velvet that accentuated his eyes. When he saw Lance, he stopped pacing. “Lance…you look…”

“I’m sorry I’m late,” Lance said shyly. “I enjoyed that bath a little too much, I think.”

“No need to apologize. I was here early,” JC told him. “Please, have a seat…you can sit next to me now.” JC waited for Lance to sit, then he sat next to him.

Lance fidgeted for a moment, then said, “I suppose Brian has something delicious planned. He wouldn’t let me near the kitchen.”

“Yes. I asked him to make my favorites…I really want you to see what kind of cook he is,” JC said. “He came back when I asked him to.”

“Of course he did,” Lance said before he thought.

“I did ask…I mean, I didn’t order him. Any of them,” JC said, frowning. “I AM capable of asking, you know.”

“I’m sorry!” Lance gasped. “I just…I…”

“No.” JC closed his eyes for a brief moment. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you. I’m sorry.” JC smiled at Lance as he gracefully draped his napkin in his lap. “We can finally enjoy a civilized meal, without me making a mess of everything.”

“I never minded eating with you,” Lance said. “I knew the civilized person was in there somewhere.”

“Occasionally,” JC said, grinning again.

“Dinner is served, gentlemen,” Brian announced, entering the dining room with three stewards. They placed plates of pheasant, vegetables, potatoes and bread on the table. “Enjoy.” He bowed and led the others out of the room.

“Oh…” Lance murmured, looking at the piles of food on the beautiful china plates. “I’ve never seen anything like this. We…eat rather plain at home.” He picked up his knife and fork and hesitated.

“You don’t like it?” JC asked unhappily. “I thought…I mean, these are my favorites. Brian’s a very good cook. He does the very fancy things for the fine dinners and such, but I always liked when he would make just real food. If you don’t like it, we can send it back and have him make something else.”

“We are NOT sending it back,” Lance said, inhaling deeply. “This smells heavenly. I just…I’m afraid I’ll do something embarrassing.”

JC reached over and covered Lance’s hand with his. “Don’t be that way, Lance. I know how you feel…remember, I had to eat in front of you using paws, for God’s sake. I would never judge you or anything.”

“Right. Sorry if I’m acting foolish.”

“You’re not,” JC promised. “Please, eat.” Lance nodded and jabbed a spear of broccoli onto his fork. He slid the buttered vegetable into his mouth and almost groaned with delight. JC smiled and began to eat his own dinner. “So…I saw you in here earlier,” JC said almost shyly. Lance turned red and choked on his bite of pheasant. “It’s all right,” JC said hurriedly. “You are welcome to go anywhere you wish.”

“I…needed something different. I’m sorry if I imposed, sitting on your chair.”

“I always liked this chair,” JC said, wriggling about a bit. “When he sat here, my father had this hard wooden thing that could only be called a throne. When I was small, I would jump up and down on it, and it would never even creak. When I inherited this place, I got rid of that first thing.” JC smiled at the memory. “I picked the best chair I could find, the most beautiful, of course…but made sure it was comfortable.”

“I’m afraid our chairs were always a bit more…practical,” Lance said, wistfully eyeing the silk of JC’s chair. 

“Right,” JC said, feeling embarrassed and not knowing quite why. “So…did you enjoy the telescope while you were home?”

“Very much!” Lance exclaimed. “I showed my father…he was amazed. My mother…she didn’t have time for it.” Lance stabbed a carrot. “But that’s fine. I even showed Justin.”

JC swallowed hard, almost choking on his pheasant. “Justin Timberlake? The man who tried to kill me?”

“I didn’t KNOW he was going to try to kill you,” Lance pointed out. “I was trying to be fair, to be nice to him. I thought of you, actually…and how you’d never really had to make a friend before. Justin never had any real friends. Everyone’s always bowed and scraped to him, treating him differently. Kind of like you,” Lance said with a small smile. “So, I thought I’d share something with him that I really enjoyed, to see if he could enjoy it, too.”

“I see,” JC said, torn between great pleasure at the fact that Lance had thought of him back at home, and extreme jealousy that he’d spent time alone with Justin. “And?”

“He looked, and was impressed. I’ll give him that. And then he tried to kiss me.” Lance blushed. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to say that.”

JC put down his knife and fork. “Tried to kiss you?”

“Yes. But I managed to avoid it. I politely thanked him for his interest and told him we would never work out together. We’re too different. And I didn’t plan on giving my first kiss to someone who wasn’t looking for what I’m looking for.” Lance cleared his throat and took a large gulp of water. 

JC stared at him. “First kiss?” He whispered, realizing he was repeating everything Lance was saying. Lance blushed darker, and nodded. “Ah,” JC said weakly, drinking heavily from his own glass.

“It was Nickolas Carter’s fault, anyway,” Lance said, trying to diffuse the tension. “I told them that I was hurt, and that someone in a manor on the other side of the woods saved me. Nickolas got it into his thick head to investigate, for some reason, and heard rumor of a beast, and, well…you know the rest.”

“Was he there, that day?” JC asked, and Lance nodded.

“The tall, blond one, who was never far from Justin.”

“I’m not sure I remember him.”

Lance snorted. “You’re not missing much.”

JC smiled and changed the subject. They finished their meals, and Brian magically reappeared. “I’ve made some custard, if you’d like to take it with coffee in the library, sir,” Brian suggested.

“I’m so full,” Lance sighed, rubbing his stomach. “Brian, this was delicious.” 

Brian nodded his thanks and looked at JC. “While I hate to turn down your dessert, Brian, I’m full as well. Perhaps later.”

“Yes, sir. Good night to you both.” Brian bowed and left the dining room.

“Will you come with me to the music room? I have something to show you,” JC said, standing. Lance nodded and stood as well.

Lance followed JC into the large music room. The candelabras were already lit. “Where would you like me to sit?”

“How about here?” JC sat at the piano, and patted the bench next to him. Lance sat, giving JC room to play. JC took a deep breath and began to play.

After about ten minutes of playing, JC began to sing. Lance was glad he was sitting down, because all the rumors he’d heard about the voice of JC Chasez were true. JC had a beautiful voice, especially when it rose to the high notes. For the first few moments, Lance was swept away by the tone and allure of JC’s voice, then he started listening to the words. His hands trembled as he listened to the lyrics of a very tender love song, a song that spoke of first love and new beginnings and feelings that were unexpected but completely welcome. Lance stared at his hands, clasped in his lap, as JC finished. “I…I don’t know that I’ve heard that song before,” Lance said weakly.

“That’s because you’re the first one to hear it,” JC said softly. He took Lance’s hands in his. “I wrote it for you.”

“You what?” Lance gasped, his head snapping up. He looked JC in the eye. “When?”

“Well, the words have been bumping about in my head for a while, but I set it to music last night,” JC told him. “Did you like it?”

“You wrote me a song,” Lance murmured. “How could I not like it? But above all that, it was incredible.”

“Thank you.” JC stroked the back of Lance’s hands with his thumbs. “Lance, you saved my life…and I can never thank you enough. Getting to know you…you’re like no one I’ve ever known. So smart and witty…gentle and innocent. You have a kind heart. I…” JC swallowed hard as he looked into Lance’s eyes. “I’ve fallen in love with you, Lance. I want to spend every waking minute with you. I want you to move in here with me. We can redecorate my chambers, any way you want. I want to travel with you, share my life with you, see the world with you, through new eyes. YOUR eyes.” JC brought Lance’s hands to his lips and kissed them. He looked at Lance expectantly.

“I…I…” Lance gaped at JC, slowly pulling his hands away. “This is…I’m honored, JC. Thank you.”

“Thank you?” JC gasped.

“I mean, for you, someone like you, to offer me this…” Lance shook his head. “Someone like me…this is a chance of a lifetime. But I’m not right for you. You’re a man of wealth and position…you have everything you want.”

“I want you,” JC said. “I want my life to start over, with you. I’m not that person anymore, Lance.”

“I know,” Lance said hurriedly, standing up. “But you deserve more than me. I appreciate the offer, I just…we’re not right for each other.”

“Lance,” JC said in a strangled tone, standing as well. “I’m nothing special. I’m a beast, remember? You’re so much…”

“You’re EVERYTHING,” Lance cried. “I’m the town weirdo, the one everyone makes fun of. I don’t even have any FRIENDS. Someone like you…”

“And do I have friends?” JC almost shouted. He couldn’t believe this. “I’ve told you about my life. I don’t have friends, either. I didn’t even know how to MAKE a friend before you came along!”

“And there’s that,” Lance said, trembling from head to toe. “I know that you’re grateful to me for whatever I did to change you back. But that’s not a reason…”

“You KNOW what you did!” JC snapped. “Someone had to care for me, the me on the inside. You’re saying you don’t care?”

“I do care, it’s just…” Lance shook his head. “Things like this happen in fairy tales, JC. NOT in real life. I’m sorry. I just…I can’t. YOU can’t. I’m sorry.” Lance ran out of the room. 

JC hurried after him, skidding to a stop as he saw Lance go out the front door of the castle. “Idiot!” JC yelled in frustration. “You’re right. Why WOULD I want someone like you, you…you…CHILD!” JC yelled lamely. He wished he was still the beast, so he could break something. He wildly spun around, looking for something to throw. An ugly Chinese vase caught his eye, and he crashed it to the ground, smiling in satisfaction.

“Sir! What’s going on? Are you all right?” Christopher ran into the hallway, panting for breath. “I heard the front door, and then…” He stared at the pile of porcelain on the ground. “What happened?”

“He said NO, Christopher. NO. What was I thinking?” JC tore up the staircase, cursing. “I was a fool for thinking it would work. Someone like him, and someone like ME? He’s absolutely right. We’re NOT meant to be, we are FAR too different. I’m wealthy. I have power. I can get anything I want.” JC shoved his bedroom door open and kicked a chair.

“Apparently not, Mr. Chasez,” Christopher said from the doorway. “What did he say?”

JC glared at him. “You forget your place, Mr. Kirkpatrick.”

“Well, yes, this time, I AM forgetting my place. You can fire me when we’re done here. WHAT did he say?”

“Basically…he said that I’m too good for him and that I only love him for what he’s done for me.” JC dropped into the only unbroken chair in the room.

“That’s not true.” Christopher tilted his head. “Is it?”

“Of COURSE not!” JC roared. 

“Sorry…just checking,” Christopher said. “I’m sure this was difficult for him. He’s such a modest man…and I think he’s been hurt by what others think. Of course he’d feel that he wasn’t good enough for you.”

“But he IS,” JC insisted. “TOO good for me.” JC sighed. “He said that this kind of thing only happens in fairy tales.”

Christopher slowly smiled. “You’re wealthy. You have power and prestige and all the trappings that go with it.”

“So?”

“So give him the fairy tale, Mr. Chasez.”


	18. Chapter 18

WRITTEN IN THE STARS  
Eighteen

Lance didn’t even think twice as he pushed his way through the woods on the path back home. It was as if he’d walked it his whole life. By the time he reached the outskirts of his village, he was panting and shaking so hard he could barely hold himself up. He stood and took big heaving breaths, trying to get himself under control. He didn’t know what he was afraid of, exactly, but terror was racing through his veins. While he knew JC liked him, and that he was grateful, he had NEVER expected JC to all but propose to him. JC was beauty and glamour and luxury…everything Lance wasn’t.

Lance slowly started walking towards his house, taking calming breaths as he went. He didn’t need his mother to ask what was going on. He realized he was crying, and hurriedly wiped the tears away as he walked. He was still a little dazed and confused when he slowly opened the front door, not wanting to scare his parents.

His mother was on the sofa, darning socks, while his father read a book by the fire. “Lance!” Jim gasped, dropping his book. “Where have you been?”

“Didn’t you get my message?” Lance asked tiredly. 

“Something about helping a friend?” His mother asked, standing up. “I didn’t know…”

“That I had friends? Yes, Mother, I know it’s a shock, but I have friends. They needed my help, so I stayed and helped them. And then…” Lance shook his head. “I’m home. If that’s all right. I mean, this is still my home, right?”

“Of course it is, son,” Jim said immediately. “You are always welcome here.”

“No more drama, or running away,” Lance promised. “I’m home for good.”

“What are you wearing, Lance?” Diane gasped, finally getting a good look at him. “That’s…beautiful!”

“Oh.” Lance looked down at his clothing. “Yes. It is beautiful. I’m going to turn in, if that’s all right. I’ve had a very…busy night.”

“Of course,” Jim said again. He hugged Lance. “Welcome home.”

“Thank you, Father,” Lance said. He turned to his mother. “Good night, Mother.”

“But I want to know where you…”

“Good night, Lance,” Jim interrupted, putting a hand on Diane’s arm. Lance gave his father a grateful smile and headed for his bedroom.

 

Once Lance was changed and in his old familiar bed, he let his brain try to wrap around everything that had happened earlier in the evening. He was still in shock. JC was in love with him? JC wanted them to live together? JC was crazy, apparently.

Lance rolled onto his back and stared at the blackness of his room. When he finally fell asleep, it was with the memory of JC’s voice ringing in his ears.

 

Lance slept until almost noon the next day. Diane was dying of curiosity, and planned on waking Lance as soon as her husband headed for the store. That plan was thwarted, however, as soon as Jim took one good look at her face. “Diane Bass, leave that boy alone,” he snapped. Her eyes widened. “I have never said much about the way you treat him, but now I’m putting my foot down. He’s experienced something that’s thrown his world for a loop. I can see it in his eyes. It is not my business and it is definitely not your business. When he’s ready to tell us, he will. You let him sleep, and leave him be.”

“I wasn’t going to DO anything,” Diane said defensively. 

Jim snorted. “I mean it, Diane. Leave him alone.” He gave her a kiss and left for work. She sighed and went back to the breakfast dishes.

 

When Lance finally appeared, Diane was sitting at the table, writing a letter. “Hello there, sleepyhead,” she said, smiling at him.

“I’m sorry…I slept the day away. I planned on helping Father in the store.” Lance yawned and stretched.

“The store will be there tomorrow,” Diane said. “Can I get you something to eat?”

“No, thank you. I’ll just get a bite to eat.” Lance poked around the kitchen until he found some fruit and bread. He poured himself some coffee from the pot Diane kept warm on the stove. “Do you need me to do anything for you, Mother?”

“No, thank you for asking,” Diane said in surprise.

“Well, I’m going to just go back to my room, if that’s all right. I have a lot on my mind.”

“Lance,” Diane said gently, putting a hand on his shoulder. “I…if you need to talk.”

Lance refrained from rolling his eyes. “Thank you, Mother.” He went to his room and closed the door without another word.

He spent the rest of the afternoon in his room, only coming out to have dinner with his parents. Jim cheerfully kept up a one-sided conversation, aided only occasionally by his wife. Lance answered when spoken to, but otherwise pushed his food around on his plate and didn’t really eat much. Once he excused himself, he went back to his room, grabbed the telescope, and went outside. He walked to an open space at the edge of town, the same place he’d taken Justin. He set up the telescope and waited for it to get completely dark.

Lance was just getting the lens in focus when a noise a few yards away made him jump. “Hello?” He called. Really…his mother was ridiculous in her curiosity.

“Bass? Is that you?”

Lance wished it was his mother, after all. “Yes, it is.” 

Nickolas Carter approached, stopping a few feet away and crossing his arms over his broad chest. “Really, Lance, you are the weirdest person I know. Other men our age are at the pub, looking for a pretty girl or handsome man to warm their bed. You? You’re out looking through a tube at the stars.”

“Can you even SPELL stars, Nickolas?” Lance snapped. He put his face back down to the telescope. “Leave me alone.”

Nickolas gave Lance a hard shove. “You really are a freak, Bass.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I’m meeting Justin later…decided to take a walk to kill some time.” Nickolas looked Lance over from head to toe. “I really don’t see what he thought was all that wonderful about you, Lance.”

“Me either,” Lance told him, and Nickolas’ eyes widened. “I was never interested in him, Nickolas. Not as anything more than an acquaintance. HE sought ME out, remember? I politely turned him away. I even told him to find someone like YOU.” 

“You did?” Nickolas looked genuinely astonished.

“Nickolas, it’s obvious how you feel about him. And how he treats you…that’s not right. I’m not your best friend or anything, but no one deserves to be treated that way. You’re in love with him. It’s all over your face. And I told him to pay more attention to THAT, and less attention to me. I’m sorry if he didn’t do that.”

“He spends a lot more time with me now,” Nickolas said softly. “Since…that day. I think it really scared him.”

“It scared all of us,” Lance said honestly. “I’m sorry.”

“You knew that man? The beast guy?”

“Yes,” Lance said simply. 

Nickolas swallowed hard, looking very uncomfortable. “Well…you just remember that Justin Timberlake is MINE. Got it?”

“Got it,” Lance said, trying not to smile. 

“All right then.” Nickolas nodded once, then strode away. Lance sighed, shook his head, and went back to his telescope.

 

“Woman, you only have two arms and two legs. HOW do you need so much fabric?”

“A girl needs to look pretty. Isn’t that right, Lance?”

“Yes, Mrs. Eberly. You’re exactly right,” Lance said, nodding at two of their best customers.

“I don’t know why I work so hard…I don’t see any of the money,” Mr. Eberly grumbled.

“You see me looking nice. Isn’t that enough?” Mrs. Eberly patted her husband’s cheek as she climbed into the wagon.

“May I get you anything else?” Lance said as he fastened their purchases more securely in the back of the wagon.

“No, please. Enough!” Mr. Eberly said dramatically. 

Lance grinned. The couple was a fairly new addition to their town, and he liked them. They seemed educated, and didn’t know enough about how things worked to treat him badly. “If you need anything else, you know where to find us,” he said to Mrs. Eberly.

“Thank you, Lance.” She gave him a beautiful smile. “I…” Her blue eyes were drawn to a commotion on the road at the end of town. “What is THAT?”

“I don’t know,” Lance said. His eyes widened as the most ornate, beautiful carriage he’d ever seen came trotting into the square. His mouth fell open as he saw Christopher Kirkpatrick in the coachman’s box, wearing dark red livery. “Oh, my God,” Lance whispered.

“Lance, you look pale. Are you all right?” Mrs. Eberly gasped. She hopped back down from the wagon seat and took Lance’s hands in hers.

“I’ll get your father,” Mr. Eberly said, darting back into the store.

Christopher climbed down from the carriage, smiling at Lance. “Mr. Bass.” He respectfully tipped his red hat. 

“Christopher,” Lance said weakly. “I didn’t know you drove the horses as well.”

“I’m a man of all trades,” Christopher said with a grin. “Besides, you know we’re not exactly fully staffed right now.”

“Right.” Lance stared at the carriage.

A knocking thump made them both jump. “Oh. Right.” Christopher hurried over and opened the door of the carriage. 

“Lance, what’s going on?” Jim Bass hurried over, then stopped short at the sight of the elaborate carriage.

Christopher bowed as JC Chasez exited the carriage. He wore a dark green velvet suit that made his legs look endless, and his dark hair seemed to shine. “Good afternoon, Lance.”

“Good…afternoon…” Lance whispered. 

JC looked at him for a long moment. “Well, apparently Lance has forgotten any good manners you might have instilled in him. I’m assuming you’re Mr. Bass?”

“Yes. Yes, I am,” Jim said, shaking JC’s outstretched hand.

“My name is Joshua Chasez, but my friends call me JC.”

“You’re a friend of Lance’s?” Jim asked, still in shock.

“I thought so, once,” JC said. “But now he’s acting like he doesn’t know me.”

“I…I’m sorry. JC, what are you doing here?” Lance blurted out.

“I’d really rather sit and talk, Lance. Do you think we could have some tea or something?” JC looked around the small village.

“Why don’t you come to our home?” Jim said. “I’m sure my wife would be happy to serve tea.”

“But the store…” Lance waved his hand in the air.

“The store will still be there after tea,” Jim said. “Come along, Mr. Chasez.”

“Thank you.” JC gave Lance a beaming smile as he followed Jim towards the house.

“We’ll see you later, Lance,” Mr. Eberly said.

“Yes,” Lance whispered. “Christopher…”

“I just drive the horses,” Christopher said, removing his hat and leaning against the carriage.

Lance sighed and followed JC and his father. “And so I thought, it’s a beautiful day, why not hitch up the carriage and go visit my friend Lance?” JC was saying to Jim. Lance hid a smile at the idea of JC hitching up his own carriage. 

“You’re welcome in our home,” Jim said almost nervously. “Diane, are you here?”

“Of course I’m here. Where else would I…” Diane’s eyes widened as she saw JC. “Hello.”

“M-mother, this is JC Chasez,” Lance said finally. “He’s…a friend of mine.”

“Oh. A friend? Of Lance’s?” Diane blinked, then recovered. “So nice to meet you, Mister…Chasez, was it?”

“Yes, ma’am.” JC removed his hat. “And the pleasure is all mine,” JC said, pasting on a beautiful smile and kissing her hand. She giggled and blushed a bit.

“JC came to visit with Lance, Diane. I thought you could make some tea, perhaps?” Jim suggested.

“Of course! I have the water on to boil already,” Diane said. “Please sit down, Mr. Chasez. I’ll have this ready in a moment.”

“Thank you.” JC placed his hat and gloves on the table and sat. He glared at Lance for a moment, and Lance finally sat beside him.

“WHAT are you doing here?” Lance hissed.

“I’m visiting my friend. We are still friends, aren’t we?” JC said, smiling pleasantly.

“Here you are.” Diane set down a tea set on a silver tray. Lance recognized his grandmother’s tea set, which only came out on special occasions. “We’ll just let that steep a bit, then.”

“Diane, I need your help at the store,” Jim said. “Please.”

“I…very well,” Diane said with a sigh. “If you don’t need me here…”

“We don’t,” Lance said hurriedly. “I think I can pour tea, Mother.”

JC jumped to his feet. “A pleasure to meet you both,” he said.

“You as well,” Jim said, maneuvering his wife out the door.

“I don’t know WHAT you were talking about,” JC said as he sat back down. “Your mother is charming.”

Lance snorted. “A handsome man in an expensive suit works wonders with my mother.”

“So you think I’m handsome?” JC asked. Lance blushed and poured the tea, spooning some sugar into JC’s cup. JC smiled as he realized Lance remembered exactly how he liked his tea without having to ask. 

“What are you doing here?” Lance asked. “Really.”

“I wanted to see you.” JC looked around. “I wanted to see where you came from.”

“Right,” Lance said sadly. “Doesn’t quite measure up, does it?”

“I wanted to see where you came from so I could learn about YOU, Lance. And I wanted to show you that I don’t care if you live in a hovel or a castle. I love YOU. And I wanted you to see that I could get along with your family…that I could be comfortable in your world as well as mine.”

“I don’t ever see you being completely comfortable in my world,” Lance said. “Just like I don’t know that I’d be comfortable in yours.”

“But don’t you see? We’d have each other. I’m more at ease with you than I’ve ever been with anyone in my life,” JC said softly. He stirred his tea slowly, the spoon making gentle clinking sounds. “I have never been one-hundred percent myself with anyone. Not my parents, not my so-called friends…and definitely not the men I’ve been with.”

“That’s another thing,” Lance said. “I’ve thought about that a lot. I haven’t even kissed anyone. You have years of experience…I’d just be an idiot.”

“No!” JC took Lance’s hands in his. “I love that about you. I love that you’ve waited to find just the right person. Sometimes I wish I would have as well…but in my circles, there were no virgins over the age of eighteen.” JC looked into Lance’s eyes. “Lance, can you honestly tell me that you don’t have any feelings for me at all? I’m not saying love, I’m saying feelings. More than friendship.”

“I…I…” Lance lost himself in JC’s eyes, remembering how they used to shine through the face of a beast. “No, JC. I can’t say that.”

“May I have the honor of giving you your first kiss?” JC whispered. Lance bit his lip, then nodded. JC leaned in and very gently kissed Lance. There was one small peck, then a longer kiss, then a longer one.

Lance sighed, feeling himself lean closer and closer to JC as their lips met. One of his hands reached for JC’s shoulder before he knew what he was doing, and he felt JC’s thumb softly stroke over his other hand. He knew the kiss lasted only minutes, but it felt like hours. When he finally pulled back, JC didn’t stop him. “Oh, my,” Lance said breathlessly. “If I’d have known that’s what I was missing…”

“I’m glad you waited for me,” JC murmured, kissing Lance’s forehead. “Lance, if all that’s standing between us is this foolish idea that, well, so much is standing between us, then I’ll wait forever. I’ll wear you down. I can sweep you off your feet, if you’d like…but I don’t know that you really want that.”

“No,” Lance said. “Everything you have is beautiful and wonderful, but it’s just…things.”

“Exactly. And while I like my things very much, I like you more. I never thought I’d say that about anyone,” JC said, smiling ruefully. “But if you’re not interested, if you truly don’t think this will work…then I won’t bother you ever again.”

Lance imagined a life without JC and frowned. He was so torn. “I…”

“How about you and your parents come to dinner tomorrow night?” JC suggested, seeing weakness in Lance’s eyes. Lance’s resolve was wavering. “I’ll pull out all the stops…show your mother just what sort of man can fall in love with the son she disrespects so much.”

“Well…” Lance said. “That WOULD be nice to see.”

“Splendid.” JC stood and picked up his hat and gloves. “How is seven?”

“That’s fine…gives us time to clean up after we close the store.” Lance stood as well. “I can’t believe you just showed up like this.”

“You said this seemed like a fairy tale,” JC said. “I figured I’d show you a bit of fairy tale, then.”

Lance rolled his eyes and led the way out the door. He stopped short, staring at the men standing by JC’s carriage. “Good God,” he gasped. “Justin?”

“Hello, Lance.” Justin Timberlake smiled his old lazy grin, then froze as he saw Lance’s companion. “What are YOU doing here?”

“Your hair,” Lance said weakly.

Justin ran a hand over his shorn head. “I decided I needed a change,” he said with a shrug. “I repeat…what are YOU doing here?”

“My name is JC Chasez.” JC pulled himself to his full height, and his entire demeanor changed. He looked at Justin as if he were a piece of dirt on the bottom of his shoe. “I’m a friend of Lance’s. I don’t believe I ever got your name.” 

Lance could see why the wizard had thought JC needed an attitude adjustment. Everything about him exuded coldness and condescension. “JC, this is…”

“I don’t need you to introduce me, Lance,” Justin said. “My name is Justin Timberlake.”

“Ah, yes. Lance has told me SO much about you.” JC’s eyes flicked over to Nickolas Carter, who was arrogantly leaning on JC’s carriage. “And YOU are?”

“Nickolas Carter.” Nickolas gave JC a cocky grin.

JC looked at Lance. “THIS is Nickolas?” Lance nodded. “I remember you now. You’re the one who called Lance a freak.”

“And?” Nickolas smirked. “What are YOU going to do about it?”

“Excuse me,” JC said, motioning to Justin. Justin rolled his eyes and took a step out of the way. JC stood directly in front of Nickolas, the slight heel to his shoes bringing them eye to eye. “You will not speak of the man I love in this manner, Mr. Carter.” Justin gasped. “From what I hear, you’re lucky someone like Timberlake gives you the time of day. And you’re VERY lucky that Lance is a nice person. From what I hear, you’ve been nothing short of a total jackass towards him.” JC pressed his knee into the meat of Nickolas’ thigh. Nickolas winced in pain. “I am NOT a nice person. In fact, the kind of person I used to be got me turned into a beast. And part of that beast is still inside of me. You’ve seen how I used to look. Would you like to see that again?” Nickolas shook his head. “Then I advise you to be nothing but perfectly polite and kind to Lance, or you will have ME to deal with. Understood?” Nickolas nodded. “Good. Now get the hell away from my carriage. I don’t want to have to wash your second class slime off of it.” Nickolas scrambled out of the way. “Good day, Mr. Timberlake. Lance…I will send a carriage for you and your parents tomorrow evening at quarter to seven. Give them my regards.” JC touched the brim of his hat and smiled at Lance, then got in the carriage.

“Guess we’ll see you tomorrow, Lance,” Christopher said, hopping back up onto his seat.

“Guess so,” Lance said faintly. “Goodbye.”

“See you tomorrow.” Christopher clucked the horses into motion.

Lance turned away from Justin and Lance, deep in thought. “Goodbye, Lance,” Justin called, but Lance ignored him.

“Figures someone weird like Bass would attract a beast,” Nickolas said, then quickly looked over his shoulder at the carriage as it rolled away.


	19. Chapter 19

WRITTEN IN THE STARS  
Nineteen

 

“How many carriages does this friend of yours have, Lance?” Diane ran a hand along the smooth wood of the carriage.

“I’m not sure, Mother. He has a lot of money, so I’m sure he has more than one carriage.” Lance sat down across from his parents.

“How did you say you met?” Diane asked.

“The night I ran off, he and his staff helped me when I was injured,” Lance said in a bored tone. “I told you already.”

“There’s no need to be rude.” Diane fidgeted nervously. “I just hope I look all right.” She smoothed the skirt of her best dress. “I don’t want to embarrass you.”

“You look beautiful, Mother,” Lance said truthfully. “And it’s not your wardrobe that embarrasses me.”

“Thank you,” Diane said, pleased. Jim choked a laugh into a cough. 

“Mr. Chasez seems very nice,” Jim said once he was under control. “Very polite young man.”

“He’s very smart. Talented as well,” Lance said. “He sings and plays the piano, he paints…”

“Well, those are exactly the kind of friends I’ve always wanted for you,” Diane said.

“You just wanted me to have friends, period,” Lance muttered as he looked out the window.

“Well, I…oh…” Diane trailed off as the castle came into view. “That’s…that’s his home?”

“Yes. He inherited it from his parents.” Lance smiled at the shocked look on his mother’s face.

“What kind of business were they in?” Jim asked.

“A little bit of everything. Shipping, mostly,” Lance said.

The carriage came to a stop, and the door opened. “Good evening, sirs…ma’am…” Christopher said respectfully, helping Diane from the carriage. “Mr. Chasez is waiting for you in the library.”

“Good evening, Christopher,” Lance said, smiling as he stepped out of the carriage. His eyes widened as he saw a line of stewards waiting by the door. “What…what are they doing here?”

“Word spread that Mr. Chasez was looking to impress your parents. Everyone came running back to help,” Christopher whispered. “You had quite the effect on everyone here, Lance. Remember that.” Christopher smiled and said a bit louder, “Please, follow me.” He led them into the castle and down a familiar hall.

“I love this room,” Lance whispered as they entered the library. A fire crackled cheerfully, and candelabras lit the room.

“Ah, Mrs. Bass. You look lovely.” JC kissed her hand again. He wore a simpler suit of light red, which on most men would have looked silly. JC looked as if he’d been born in it. “And Mr. Bass. So good to see you…I’m glad you could pull yourself away from your business.”

“Thank you for having us.” Jim shook JC’s hand.

“Good evening, Lance.” JC looked at Lance, his eyes soft.

Lance blushed. He had considered wearing the suit he’d worn his last night at the castle, but decided he just wanted to be himself. He wore a plain suit of dark brown, not realizing the contrast it made against his light hair and the paleness of his skin. “Hello, JC,” Lance said almost shyly.

“Lance will tell you that I have an amazing cook,” JC said. “He excels at anything he makes. This evening, I thought we’d have something simple…only four courses.”

“Only four?” Diane echoed.

JC chuckled, taking her hand and tucking it in the crook of his arm as he started out of the library. “I remember when my parents entertained, we’d have at least seven courses, sometimes as many as ten or eleven. For a small boy, that was a VERY long evening.”

“Your home is beautiful,” Diane said, her voice almost a whisper as they walked down the hall to the dining room. 

“Thank you. I cannot take much credit; I’ve only changed things here and there since my parents died. I plan on making a great deal of change, though, very soon.” JC gave Lance a meaningful look. “Here we are. After you.” He allowed Diane and Jim to enter the dining room. JC sat at the head of the table, with Lance at his left and Diane on his right. Jim sat next to his wife. “I hope you enjoy.” JC snapped his fingers, and the stewards jumped into action.

JC continued to make conversation throughout their amazing dinner, making sure to include Jim and Diane equally. He occasionally made a comment directed towards Lance, but otherwise he focused on Lance’s parents. Lance was fine with that. It gave him an opportunity to really study JC. This JC was not someone Lance had observed before. He was very polite, especially towards Diane, but he was a bit aloof, as if he was performing a duty instead of truly enjoying himself. Lance soon came to realize that JC was doing everything in his power to entrance Diane with his wealth and position…and it was working.

“That was delicious, Mr. Chasez,” Jim said with a sigh as they finished their final course. “I feel as if I’ve gained a whole other person tonight.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed it.” JC turned as someone approached. “Ah, Brian. I’m glad you came up. Thank you for a wonderful meal.”

“My pleasure,” Brian said, bowing. “Hello, Lance.”

“Hello, Brian. Everything was amazing.” Lance smiled at Brian, who nodded and bowed again before leaving the room.

“Shall we take coffee in the library, then?” JC said. He stood and offered Diane his arm once more. They returned to the library, where they sat on various seats by the fire. Lance stood, leaning against the mantle. 

“Lance tells us you’re very artistic,” Diane said. “I’ve always found that quite impressive. Lance doesn’t have any sort of talent like that.”

“Well, it was not encouraged in my home, so unfortunately I’m not as accomplished as I should be,” JC said, frowning a bit at the insult to Lance. “And Lance is talented at many other things. He is very good with medical treatment, for example.” JC winked at Lance. “I was injured a few times, and Lance was the one to treat my wounds.”

“Really?” Diane looked at Lance in surprise.

“I read about it in a book,” Lance said softly.

Diane waved her hand. “Books. That’s all he cares about.” Diane looked around the room. “But it seems you enjoy reading yourself. What a collection.”

“Well, to be honest, Lance has gotten more use out of this room in the short time I’ve known him than I have in my entire life,” JC said. “He’s a very well-educated young man. We’ve had some very interesting conversations.” 

“I must say, Mr. Chasez, you seem to have lived quite the life,” Jim said.

“Oh, if you only knew, sir,” JC said quietly. Lance gave him a sympathetic glance.

“You are JUST the sort of friend I’ve always wanted for Lance…someone to pull him out of his books and into the real world,” Diane said, smiling at JC.

“I’m sitting right here, Mother,” Lance said, his voice cold.

“Well, Mrs. Bass, I cannot fault Lance for hiding in his books. When real life treats you so badly, why wouldn’t you wish to escape it?” JC asked, putting his cup down. “I wish I could have met Lance a long time ago…it would have probably saved us both an incredible amount of heartache.”

“Oh,” Diane said, not sure what else to say.

“And as for being Lance’s friend…I’m proud to say that I AM his friend.” JC stood and went over to Lance. He took Lance’s hand in his. Lance’s eyes were huge as he looked up at JC. JC gave him a tender smile. “And I hope to be something more.” He looked at Diane and Jim. “I’m very much in love with your son, Mr. and Mrs. Bass. I would like nothing more than for him to move here, to become a part of my life permanently.”

Diane gasped and Jim’s mouth fell open. “Well…I…really?” Diane blurted out. “Not that we’re not honored by your interest in him, Mr. Chasez, but…Lance?”

JC felt Lance stiffen at his mother’s words, the “why him?” completely obvious in her tone. “Mrs. Bass, may I speak freely?”

“Of course,” Diane said, still in shock.

“Father, why don’t I show you the music room?” Lance suggested. “It’s amazing.”

“No, Lance. Please stay. I want you to hear this.” JC smiled at Diane, but his smile was cold. “Mrs. Bass, I hope to become a member of your family, so I will curb my tongue as much as I can. I love your son. He is the kindest, sweetest, most intelligent man I have ever met. The way that others have treated him…the townspeople as well as yourself…that would be enough to turn any normal man into a callous, heartless shell. And trust me, I know about heartless.” JC turned to Lance, pure love in his eyes. “But Lance isn’t like that. He befriended me when I knew nothing about being a friend. He made me fall in love with him by being absolutely nothing but his own wonderful self.” He looked back at Diane. “My own mother was nothing but a guardian to me. She did not love me or show me affection. I know how mothers are SUPPOSED to act, though, and from what I’ve heard and seen, you don’t act like anything more than a guardian as well when it comes to your son.”

“JC, please,” Lance begged.

“NO, Lance. I will NOT allow her to treat you this way,” JC snapped. “I don’t know you well, Mrs. Bass, so I have no clue why you act the way you do. But if you could put whatever it is aside that keeps you from seeing how truly amazing Lance is…you’d realize how lucky you are to have a son like him. I have wealth and prestige and many beautiful things…and because of that I could find anyone I want to warm my bed and share my life.” Lance blushed a bit. “But out of all the men in the entire world, I chose your son. What does that tell you about his value?” JC sighed. “I hope to spend a lot of time with Lance, and therefore, with your family, in the future. I will be polite to you, and never treat you unkindly. But I will never respect you, until you do something to earn it.” JC turned to Jim. “I apologize, Mr. Bass, if I’ve said anything out of line…but I could not allow Lance’s mother to treat him this way without saying something.” JC looked at Lance. “I hope I haven’t gone too far. Christopher can show you out. Good evening.” Without another word, JC left the room.

 

The ride home was completely silent, except for the creaking of the carriage, the clip-clop of the horses’ feet, and the thunder of a distant storm. When they reached the house, Jim handed Diane from the carriage, Lance followed, and the carriage started its return home. 

When they entered the house, Jim immediately went to stir the fire. Diane went to their bedroom without a word, closing the door. Lance fell into a chair by the fire, staring moodily at the growing flames. “Your mother loves you,” Jim began, and Lance snorted. “I know she does. I’ve told you that she’s never understood you…but that’s a weak explanation for her actions.” Lance looked at his father. “I’ve not done enough to make her see how she acts…how it makes you feel.”

“Father, you…”

“I’m sorry, Lance,” Jim said. “For everything. I’ve not done half of what I should as your father…and I hope you never think of me as only a guardian.”

“I don’t!” Lance exclaimed. He jumped up and hugged his father. “You’ve been a wonderful father to me…the best I could ask for. I promise.”

Jim kissed his son’s cheek. “JC Chasez is something else.”

“Yes,” Lance said softly.

“What he said to your mother…no one else has ever dared to speak to her that way.”

“I don’t know why he did that,” Lance said unhappily. “Now she’ll hate him.”

“So she hates him. It won’t last,” Jim said with a shrug. He smiled at his son. “You know he’ll buy her something, or show her something expensive, and she’ll forget everything.” Lance thought a bit and nodded in agreement. “But I know why he did it…he loves you, Lance. He loves you so much that he cannot bear to think of someone treating you in a way you don’t deserve.”

“But I don’t deserve HIM,” Lance said.

Jim put his hands on Lance’s shoulders. “Lance, after what I just saw…he is EXACTLY what you deserve.”

 

“I will NEVER sleep through all this noise,” JC groaned, throwing the covers from his bed. He lit a candle, pulled on his slippers, and made his way downstairs. Thunder boomed and rain beat against the windows of the castle as a storm raged outside. “Maybe a book will bore me to sleep.” He made the turn towards the library and was headed down the corridor when a new sound made him jump. It wasn’t thunder. Someone was banging on the door. JC looked around. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d answered his own door. But it was late, and the staff was asleep. He sighed and turned back around. He opened the door and almost dropped his candle. “LANCE?”

“I had to come back…had to see you…” Lance panted. He wore no jacket, and his white shirt was sticking to him like a second skin. 

“It’s pouring,” JC said stupidly.

“Then let me in!” 

“Oh, right. I’m sorry.” JC moved aside. Lance came in and JC shut the door. “What…what are you doing here?”

“I love you,” Lance blurted out, and JC almost dropped the candle again. He carefully set it on a small table by the door.

“What?”

“I love you…so much. I wasn’t sure I did…wasn’t sure if was the idea of you, breezing into my life like some fairy tale prince. But then…the way you stood up for me with Nickolas, and my mother…” Lance shook his head.

“I’m sorry about that. I realized later that I went way too far,” JC said somberly.

“No, you didn’t! You said everything that I should have said to her years ago. I never was able to stick up for myself, and you did it for me.” Lance shivered in his wet clothes, and JC put his arms around him without thinking. “You’re gorgeous and alluring and smart and talented and funny…I love you, and I want to spend every waking minute with you.” Lance looked up into JC’s blue eyes. “Can you forgive me for being such a fool?”

“I forgive you,” JC said, giving Lance a passionate kiss that left him gasping for breath. “You realize that I’m still a selfish spoiled brat of a man who whines when I don’t get what I want?”

“And I love you for it,” Lance said, wrapping his arms around JC. “You could be a total beast, and I would still love you.”

“I’m going to remember you said that,” JC said, kissing him again.

THE END


End file.
